Our Song is Fire
by memoryoflightwaves
Summary: There is another little bird from the North being held captive, but this one is not afraid to fly away with Sandor. Sandor Clegane x OFC. Slight SanSan in later chapters. Rated M for language, violence and sexual content. [this is a re-write for another story]
1. Chapter 1

"You're a Stark. You're my friend. My only friend," the lady murmured.

Friend was a strange word to describe the pair of them. They could barely pass a word to one another without enemy ears to hear what they speak. Sansa Stark was born in the North and both of them had blood of the First Men running through their veins. There was even talk that she would be wed to Robb Stark when she was young, the eldest Stark boy, but that was a long time ago when everything was right in her life. They had a special connection with each other that they did not have with anyone else at the capital. If not a friend, perhaps an ally would be the best way to describe them.

Blinking rapidly, her watery green eyes scanned everywhere to see if they were truly alone. "I do not know anymore," her delicate voice trembled and abruptly stopped when they heard footsteps echoing from around the corner. "We'll have to talk later," Sansa and the lady held a forlorn gaze for a few seconds before nodding and going their separate ways.

_Everyone here hates me_, Sansa's tearful words rang in her head as she slowly made her way back to her bedchamber. The lady didn't realize her hands were clenched into tight fists. Relaxing herself, she looked down at her hands and watched them turn from red to white. She was lonely, even after briefly chatting with Sansa. Their encounters were not enough and everyone else she had contact with were against her. Sansa was not strong in her eyes, though. When she had first arrived to the capital she had fought, and received many consequences from her actions. Now she was trained and knew how to behave the way they wanted her to behave. She might as well be a dog.

An exasperated sigh escaped her mouth and she didn't realize there was someone posted at her door. The lady held her hand up to her chest and contemplated. The Hound stood there covering the whole door, tall as he was. He would have had to duck if he were ever to enter her bedchamber. However, he stood directly in front of the door rather than on the side. She would need to speak with him.

Dragging her feet as she made her way to her bedchamber she thought of what he could possibly be doing. Was she to be summoned to someone? King Joffrey? The thought crept up on her like a bad dream. The Hound himself, though, was not something she feared. He had never harmed her, nor Sansa. They had spoken about him once before and both agreed he was not like the others. The Hound treated them with respect as much as he could. King Joffrey held authority over him, though, and the lady was not stupid. She knew The Hound had done numerous awful actions but most were commands given by Joffrey.

When she was close enough for him to notice, she took in a breath and put her hands behind her back and straightened herself even though it pained her back. She always cursed her back, especially in these corsets. "Do you have business with me?" her chin was slightly lifted so she could meet with his eyes.

Keeping your gaze on The Hound was no easy task. Half his face was a ruin, covered in old burns that left his face tight and uncomfortable. Respect was always an important factor to the lady, so she always gave it when there was room for it. She would never turn away when he strolled by. Once she had even tried to strike a conversation with him, as she felt she could have had some sort of affinity with him but knew she could never say why to anyone, even him. The Hound wore his wounds on his face, but the lady wore hers elsewhere and could keep it hidden from the world. That was the way she preferred it.

The Hound seemed withdrawn, but he still had a slight grimace upon his face. His heavy armor clanked when he finally moved away from her door and to her side. The Hound stopped. "Come with me," he ordered and continued on his way down where she came from.

Without having a say in anything, as usual, she reluctantly turned back around and followed him with her feet needing to pace quicker than normal. There was an unusual heaviness in the air as if something bad were about to happen. When they continued down the corridor which turned into a stairway for the gardens the lady was slightly confused, standing at the top of the steps. Who would wait for her there? She hugged herself with one arm, grabbing onto her opposite arm tightly. A warm breeze ran past her, making her black curls that were left down fly behind her. Scents of flowers came with the breeze and that gave her some comfort along with the orange glow in the horizon beyond the flowery venue. When The Hound made it to the bottom of the steps and noticed she had stopped following he stopped and peeked over his shoulder, the bad side of his face facing her. He followed her with his eyes when she made her way down next to him and she apologized.

"It's not wise to make the Queen wait," he muttered as he continued leading her, now outdoors in the colorful garden.

Her feet sank into the dirt as she followed him now with the knowledge of who was summoning her, but she still did not understand why. _The Queen? What does she want with me?_ Queen Regent Cersei was someone she was always wary around. A smile so mocking it made you want to throw something at her, but you would probably end up losing your hands if you did that. Or more. The lady put her hands next to her and tried to look presentable as she expected to see her any moment. She tried to focus on the blazing sunset. Nature's beauty usually calmed her but that was taken from her when she heard her name being called.

"Myrna, there you are. We have been waiting," Queen Regent Cersei stood with two guards on either side of her.

The Hound found himself a place not too far from them, and kept his head down. Myrna ran what the Queen said through her head when she stopped in front of her. _We?_ For some reason she felt that "we" did not include her guards. Who else was to be there?

Myrna gasped gently, almost forgetting her manners. She curtseyed, letting her head bow low. "My queen," she pleasantly stated. "I apologize for not being here sooner. I did not know..."

"Oh, I know. This was a last minute arrangement. There is someone here to meet you. He traveled oh so very far," she smiled but failed to put any real positivity into it.

That perplexed Myrna. There was no one else she knew besides Sansa, and even Sansa was just a small child at Winterfell the last time she saw her. So much had happened since then, and she had lost... everyone. Even knowing that, there was hope attached to the news. Will this person be rescuing her from this hell? Is it a suitor who had taken interest in her, and had convinced the Lannisters to give them to her? Myrna held her hands in front of her, slightly looking around for this supposed other person when the Queen ordered one of her guards to fetch him.

Her wonderful thoughts nearly made her overlook how The Hound was reacting. His head was still down, eyes glued to his feet. He was never a talker, but he still was the type to look people in the eye even when he did not speak. Myrna frowned, wondering why he seemed so put off.

"Myrna, my sweet. Have you ever heard of Gregor Clegane?" Cersei asked.

The name made The Hound twitch, Myrna noticed. Did he not like Gregor Clegane? She pulled her eyes away from him and looked at the Queen Regent. Her green eyes pierced through her, but her smile seemed more real now. Was she holding back a laugh?

"No... no, I am afraid not. Is this the man I am to meet?" Myrna responded.

A chuckle came from the Queen. "'Tis the man you will _marry_,".

Her eyes widened. Myrna had guessed correctly. She could not believe something this great was happening to her, and Queen Regent Cersei was actually allowing it. Myrna took in a deep breath to hide her excitement. So this Gregor Clegane had actually convinced the Lannisters to give her away? She would have to ask him to tell her the story of how this came to be.

"I am not familiar with House Clegane. Is Gregor Clegane a lord?" Myrna asked, afraid she might be stepping out of her place but her curiosity held her.

"Well, you were brought here by a Clegane. Gregor's little brother, Sandor Clegane," she said The Hound's real name as she glanced at him, but he still stood there like a statue. "That's not very polite to not know people by their name, little dove..." she teased.

Not knowing what to say, she kept her mouth shut and blushed. After letting that sink in she realized she was to be his new sister. _Sandor Clegane_... she repeated his name in her head. _Gregor Clegane_... she repeated her betrothed's name. Was Sandor being shy because she will now be a part of his family? He did not seem the type to be shy. He wasn't quiet because he was shy. She could feel his rage. As the moment went on she saw his jaw clench tighter. Finally they heard footsteps come their way, but she heard the guard that was left with Cersei say, "The Mountain is here..."

The taste of bile filled her mouth. Myrna couldn't breathe.

"Myrna?" Cersei's voice sounded distant, but concerned.

Anything that was happening around her did not reach her. Her face was wet with tears as she stood in a dark place that was once the gardens. Smoke filled her lungs and she coughed. Then the pain surged through her back. That sting of burned flesh made her scream. He was part to blame. The man she had only known by the name, "The Mountain". And she was to be his bride.

...

When she woke the next morning she was cold. Her teeth chattered and she clutched to her furs, knowing her handmaiden would soon be there to make sure she was up and dressed. Her body was stiff and sore as if she had been struck by something. The memory from the evening before began to fill her mind completely and soon she remembered everything. Why were the Gods so cruel? A tear ran out the corner of her eye and ran down to her ear. Myrna did not want to get up. She would refuse to see any of them. Especially Cersei, the one who is allowing her to marry such a monster. The queen was on verge of laughing, especially when discovering Myrna had no clue who she was so excited to meet until they mentioned him by the name everyone knew. Myrna squeezed her eyes shut when she heard her wooden door creak open.

"Please, I do not feel very well today..." Myrna begged, lip trembling.

The door clicked close. "I'm sorry, m'lady. It is the king who asks for you this morning," the handmaiden tried to sound as sweet as she could, but anyone knew a visit with the king would be anything but sweet.

Another tear trailed down her face as she let out a sarcastic chuckle. "Incredible. Simply incredible is my life..." Myrna bit her lip to stop from weeping.

"I'm so sorry, m'lady..." the handmaiden seemed unsure of what else she could say and after standing idly for a few seconds she decided to plan Myrna's outfit. From the wardrobe she pulled out a simple violet dress with long sleeves and a deep v shape neck. After managing to calm herself down, Myrna kicked the furs off of her and sat on the edge of her bed as she waited for her handmaiden to help her.

After the dress was on her, Myrna went to stare into the mirror. She could not help but feel her back in so much more pain than usual, plus the soreness was also in her arms and side. It was as if the handmaiden could see the pain she felt. "You fell hard when you fainted, m'lady. They had to carry you back," the handmaiden told her as she stood behind Myrna.

She tried to shake off everything that was related to the day before, physically and mentally. "I suppose we should start walking towards the throne room," Myrna sighed but was interrupted by an abrupt knock on the door. The door opened. "You again..."

The Hound had to duck his head when he stepped into her bedchamber. His eyes glanced to her handmaiden and around her room briefly before locking them on her. "King Joffrey is growing impatient," he declared.

"Just like his mother..." Myrna hissed, picking up her dress with her hands slightly so she would not trip as she breezed past The Hound. It did not take long at all for him to catch up to her down the corridor, but she refused to look at him. "You've come to ruin my day again, ser?" Myrna continued to spat nonsense at him.

The Hound grumbled. "I'm no knight, unlike my _brother_," he seemed to try to get back at her. "You wouldn't be the first wife he honored," the last sentence sounded more like a jape than the first.

"So you enjoy watching your good sisters be killed by him? Are you counting the days for me to join them?" Myrna went on but this time Sandor did not respond. That made her peek at him, and as usual, he was frowning and looking straight ahead. The anger inside her couldn't be contained and her true self came out for a second. Myrna yanked on his wrist, ignoring the soreness, but all it did was make him stop walking and glare down at her. "I'm _talking_ to you!" she spat up at the tall man.

He ripped his hand away and shoved her forward. Myrna slightly winced. "Keep walking," he ordered.

Defeated, Myrna held her tongue and walked the rest of the way to the throne room with her head down. The giant, ancient doors to the throne room slowly opened and they sounded like an old man's groan. Once there was enough room for both The Hound and herself to enter they walked in and presented themselves to the boy on the throne. King Joffrey observed her deviously the entire time.

"It's about time you've come. I was growing bored of Sansa," he barked.

Myrna hid her disgust. _So Sansa had suffered the same this morning._ "It's a pleasure to be here," she kept it short and sweet. Myrna learned that was the best way to speak with King Joffrey.

"Is it?" he quickly responded, adjusting in his seat. "This was supposed to be strictly business, but that's no fun at all. Would you want to have some fun with me, Myrna?" he smiled.

Ser Meryn walked away from his spot from under the throne. Myrna had grown used to him as he was the one who enjoyed what he did the most and was the one who would step up. Quivering, she closed her eyes and waited for it to begin. Would she be struck to the ground this time? Would he rip and ruin another dress, leaving her having to walk back to her bedchamber with her chest exposed? Myrna waited but nothing happened. Confused, she opened one eye but all she could see was Sandor's wide back.

"What are you doing, dog? Step aside," King Joffrey ordered.

He did not speak right away, and he turned his head slightly as if to try and look at Myrna but she could not see what was going on. Then he found the words he wanted to say. "She will soon be a Clegane. She should be handled by a Clegane, and no other man..." he directed the last sentence at Ser Meryn.

King Joffrey was clearly upset as Myrna did not hear him rebuke as he usually did. The silence in that massive, spacious room was very uncomfortable. Then she heard some footsteps. "With me, all of you..." she heard Joffrey bark a command. Soon he came back into view, walking down the steps and off to the side of the room. When he could make eye contact with her he stopped and his Kingsguard stopped after him. "You cannot marry your husband yet. I need him for the war. My uncle will be on our shores soon, and after I put my uncles head on a spike _then _you can become The Mountain's bitch," Joffrey taunted her. He smiled at her before leaving through the throne room doors and it left her shuddering.

Before leaving her, The Hound stared at her. Myrna looked back with red cheeks, slightly flustered. "Why? He could have..."

"Fly back to your chamber, little bird..." he rasped, and she watched him walk rapidly out of the room to follow King Joffrey. Yellow morning sunlight poured in through the hazy glass windows and she stood there in silence, all alone. Myrna felt so small in there. Why did he stand between her and the king? He could have easily lost his head for disobeying someone as mad as Joffrey. She put her head down and sighed. Not only did she feel guilty for yelling at him earlier, but she also knew there was nothing no one in the world could do to save her. Not even The Hound.

"I can't do this anymore," she sadly said aloud to herself as she made her way back to her prison.


	2. Chapter 2

Bells rang throughout Kings Landing signaling doom was coming for them. All worthy women and children inside the Red Keep were to meet with the Queen and take refuge in the Queen's Ballroom; she did not want to think what would happen to the rest. The sun had set already and all Myrna could see was dark silhouettes of men rushing in and out the doors that led out to the Blackwater as she made her way to the ballroom. Her handmaiden was persistent in rushing towards the ballroom, but Myrna felt like running outside with the men rather than being trapped inside with scared women and children. She believed that she would have been more useful out there, but no one would believe her. In the back of her mind she could not help but think how she could be free again if the city were to fall but that would mean the cost of these men's lives.

After following a small crowd of other women they found the Queen's Ballroom and met with the guards posted outside the doors. Small talk and the crying of babes filled their ears when the doors creaked opened and they rushed in like a stream. Most of the women peeked at them for a second to see who they were. Many had arrived earlier than they had, and Myrna smiled when she saw a familiar face. Sansa sat with a circle of women and Myrna went to greet her. The redhaired beauty wore a rose colored dress with a magnificently crafted metal band around the waist. Her hair was pulled back with two thick braids on either side of her head, the rest of her hair was down and curled. They hugged tight when Sansa caught sight of her.

"Oh, Myrna. You seem well..." she softly said when she pulled away and took a shy step back.

Smiling, she nodded. "As do you. But you have become good at hiding how you really feel," Myrna noticed as Sansa held a content expression. She seemed to not want to reply to that. "That's a good thing," she added with a whisper and a brighter smile.

"I suppose. Joffrey made me kiss his sword before he went off," she rolled her eyes.

Myrna shrugged. "Better than _him_," she suggested. Both giggled.

An awkward silence came between them after their laugh but Sansa seemed to have had something on her mind. "Is it true?" Sansa asked a question as her eyes darted to the floor and she played with the ends of her auburn hair.

"Hm?" Myrna raised an eyebrow.

Her green eyes glued onto Myrna's dark eyes and her mouth gawked a bit before continuing. Whatever she did, though, made her incredibly beautiful. "The Hound stood between you and Joffrey..." she trailed off.

Before Myrna could even open her mouth to respond someone called to them.

"Sansa! Myrna! Why has no one told me my Northern beauties have arrived? Come! Come!" Queen Regent Cersei called rather crudely from a corner she had sat down. A mountain of beige and red silk pillows were placed around the Queen Regent which matched the Queen's blood red dress, and a low wooden table that held refreshments were near her. A handmaid stood nearby waiting to pour wine when needed. Immediately they obeyed, knowing making the Queen wait would only make their experience worse. When Myrna reached closer to Cersei she could immediately tell Cersei was drunk from the smell and the expression on the Queen's face. There was a smile plain on her face but it was crooked, and her eyes glared at them. "Sit with me. Talk with me," she commanded and they found places comfortable enough for their bottoms with the help of the pillows.

"It was very kind of you to invite us here, Your Grace," Sansa began. Myrna agreed with her.

Cersei let out a chuckle as she threw her shoulders back. "It was my duty, my little doves. You think I wanted this?" she waved her hand around. Myrna could feel most of the attention on her. There was a discussion Cersei wanted to have with her, and Myrna dreaded that. "Counting down the days for your wedding?" Cersei asked with a sly smile.

Myrna did not reply, but quietly held eye contact with the queen. Sansa fidgeted, obviously at unease with the tension in the air.

"Let us help you, sweetling. I'm sure Sansa and I can give you advice," she glanced at Sansa and then back at her.

_Calm yourself_, Myrna reminded her that there was no way to win an argument with a queen, especially one like Cersei. "If you want to help me, you can call off this wedding," she said as soothing as she could manage.

The wicked smile on Cersei's face melted into a frown. "Remind me, little dove, how old are you?"

"Twenty-one," Myrna immediately replied in a monotone voice.

"Twenty-one," Cersei repeated just as quick. "When I was twenty-one I was wed and ready to birth my second child already. To a man who knew nothing else but to eat, hunt and fuck whores. You think this is what I wanted?" her face was beginning to flush but she looked away in disgust and picked up her goblet. The handmaiden standing by rushed to fill the cup with wine.

The Northern girls exchanged glances. They were going to have to be extra careful. "I apologize, Your Grace," Myrna said solemnly.

"No, no, 'tis alright. You're still blessed with youth. A bit overdue for a noble lady, but still young," she sounded almost jealous.

After Cersei sipped more wine, she made a noise that was almost like a laugh. Myrna and Sansa stared at her confused.

"That was distasteful for me to yell at you, little dove. I guess I would not know the pain of my whole house and town being slaughtered and burned to the dirt," Cersei took another sip of wine. Myrna gripped the skirt of her dress, hands balled into fists. "How could anyone compare anything to that? Unless, you were to wed the man that did just that. Burn everything you love to the ground. That would be a very, very unpleasant situation..." she swirled her wine around in her cup as she stared at it.

Sansa could not keep quiet any longer. "Why does Myrna have to marry Ser Gregor? Everyone knows that he-"

"Because Myrna has to do her duty just like you!" Cersei spat in her direction now. "Joffrey will give you no less trouble. I apologize for that, but that is the truth. He's always been difficult..." she trailed off on a more melancholic note.

The chatter in the room died when a knight came rushing in through the doors. He directly went in front of Cersei and bowed stiffly. His steel armor was covered in blood and the smell filled the room. She leaned to the side when he approached her to whisper something in her ear. _Are we losing the battle?_ Myrna wondered, trying to decipher if it was good or bad news by the expression on Cersei's hard face. That itself was impossible to do. The women began talking again softly as they began to wonder the same thing. The knight was soon dismissed and returned from where he came from. All eyes were planted on Cersei but she did not seem to care as she took another sip from her goblet.

The three women sat there in silence for a moment. Cersei's handmaiden had poured wine for Myrna and Sansa as well and they would occasionally take a sip to avoid being yelled at from Cersei. Myrna had acquired the taste for wine more than Sansa had, but Myrna was older than the girl. Wine would help Myrna deal with the pain. Even on these pillows, Myrna's back could never feel right in a tight dress. Every morning she felt like crying before having to suffer having her corset tightened around her waist by her handmaiden. The one thing Myrna requested when she arrived here was to have only one handmaiden so she would not be burdened to have to explain her back so many times. The day she received the ruins on her back still lingered in her dreams.

"So, Myrna. Why don't you tell us what you did before coming here? What would Myrna Beaumont, a noble lady of the North, do after surviving such a tragedy?" Cersei broke the silence.

Not really sure how to answer that, she looked to Sansa. The girl had seemed curious as well as she waited eagerly for what Myrna had to say. "There was lots of traveling..." Myrna began. She groped her neck, worried about where this would go.

"I bet that was exciting. But all by yourself?" Cersei tilted her head.

"No. I had a friend with me..." Myrna placed her hands on her lap now and adjusted herself.

"Oh? Another survivor from Beaumont Hall? What was her name?"

"He was a boy. Desmond. He saved me," Myrna admitted. She hadn't said his name in over a year and it felt like bringing back to life what she wanted to leave behind.

Now it was Sansa asking a question. "Wasn't that dangerous?"

"I knew how to protect myself," she tried to make her answer short. If these women knew how she lived before they would make her a laughingstock for the rest of her time here.

Sansa smiled. "You sound like my sister Arya," she softly said but when she saw Cersei's frown she immediately looked down at her feet and her beautiful smile vanished.

"A shame Arya is missing," Cersei gave her empty condolences to Sansa.

Myrna had only been here for a year and did not know what they were talking about. She knew about Ned Stark. Everyone did in Westeros, and it was a shock for her when she heard of what happened. She remembered how her friend Desmond disappeared for a whole day, he had never been the type to get emotional in front of people. Myrna and the rest of her house and town were raised to have respect and love for their Warden of the North and she had the chance to meet him once when she was young. That was when she also met Sansa, who could have only been about three or four at the time. If Sansa had younger siblings, she never met them.

Once again, the door opened but this time it was Lancel Lannister limping into the room. His appearance made a few woman gasp. An arrow was deep in his shoulder which he held with his opposite hand gently. He must have fallen as he was covered in dirt and blood, and an ankle was sprained which left him struggling to walk.

"Your Grace. They made it to the shores. We are struggling to keep them out..." he nervously looked around the room. He nearly looked as frightened as the women.

Cersei stood up quickly. "Bring Joffrey back inside. Tell him to return to his chambers immediately!" she ordered.

"But... But Your Grace... I cannot do that. The men out there need morale-" Cersei's fist lunged at his wounded shoulder, and when he screamed the women in the room joined with him.

Cersei stepped over Lancel who was now sobbing on the ground and darted out of the room. The guards posted at the door followed her which left them completely vulnerable for any of the enemy's men who were able to break through the gates.

Myrna pulled up Sansa by her wrists. "You must go to your bedchambers, that is the safest place for you. Bar your doors."

"No, not without you. Please come with me," Sansa pleaded.

_I cannot_, Myrna thought. This was too good of an opportunity. Perhaps she could escape. Then again, Sansa would be all alone if she had managed to leave this place. It was not possible to bring Sansa, she knew that would be too difficult. Sansa was too well known. The decision had to be made.

"Just go. I will return to my own chambers," Myrna felt a wave of guilt as she lied to her only friend. She watched Sansa back away and then hurry out the door herself, her red hair bouncing behind her.

With a nervous exhale, she walked out the wide opened doors when Sansa was out of sight. She remembered Ser Meryn was the one they gave her dagger to when the Lannister men brought her to the capital. There was no way she could leave without that. Luckily for her, she had always planned of escaping and was able to find out where the Kingsguard men slept in case she ever had the chance. The White Sword Tower, they called it. The problem was, she always walked the corridors during the day. Now the visibility in the corridors was little to none since the sun was down. _Just take a chance and go_, Myrna told herself. Her heart pounded hard as her feet pounded against the stone beneath her feet, nearly blind. She stopped when she could no longer go straight and turned a corner, following the rough stone walls with a hand. Eventually that corridor turned into the top of a stairway and she nearly fell when she made that discovery. In order to get to the tower she had to find the Round Room which was on the main floor so she needed to stay on the main floor. Myrna struggled to think of where she made a wrong turn.

Far behind her from where she came screams of dying men made her freeze. Myrna crouched down to her knees with the skirt of her dress piled around her and did her best to see what was happening but panicked when clangs and footsteps came from the bottom of the stairway. Trapped, she held her breath and prayed it was dark enough for them not to notice her sitting against the wall. Men in heavy, noisy armor ran up the steps and the Gods must have heard her prayer since they only hastened when they reached the top step and ran down the corridor. They left behind the stench of piss and blood. _Perhaps they are Kingsguard men running away from the battle to gather their belongings_, she thought. _They could lead me straight to where I need to go. _Myrna waited for the right moment to start running after them. As their footsteps seemed far enough for them not to hear her own she ran in their direction, but she could probably follow on scent alone. The stench was vile. They had been around corpses for some time.

Myrna was chasing them for what felt like a very long time, and with no idea where she was headed. They took so many turns and soon she knew there was no way she could backtrace her steps if she needed to. She made herself believe it was only the darkness that made it feel like such a maze. Then Myrna realized the footsteps disappeared when a light came at the end of the final corridor. Concerned, she stopped running and put her back against the wall and walked slowly to the open and well lit area, ignoring the pains in her lower back. She hoped this was the Round Room she had been searching all this time for.

The room was much brighter than the hall she was in and she had to adjust her eyes in order to see everything. Not only were more fires burning inside the room along the walls but the walls were whitewashed stone and the room was a circle. _The Round Room! I found it!_ Myrna threw her head back in relief and sighed as she continued to examined the room. In the middle was a unique white table, shaped odd and had seven chairs lazily put back in place. Myrna figured that was where they would hold their meetings. Past the table Myrna found the staircase. _The men I followed must have gone up there_, she took a deep breath and walked hastily around the table.

Before she put her foot on the first step she noticed something odd. The large window near her had green light pouring in. Squinting and shading her eyes with a hand, she looked outside and all she saw was fire. The fire had a green hue to it, and she had never seen anything spread so fast.

"Are you a member of the Kingsguard now?" a voice rumbled behind her.

Myrna felt like she jumped out of her skin. She swirled around, back pushed up against the window. "You..." she muttered.

The Hound's face was drenched with sweat and smears of dark red blood were everywhere on him. His brown hair clung to his face and left his burn completely exposed, not that he seemed to care. He seemed different somehow, though. Like he had lost something.

"What are you doing here, girl?" his voice was the softest she had ever heard it, but still rough.

Myrna had no choice but to confess. "Ser Meryn has something of mine. I need it back before I go," she kept her shoulders back and her chin up. She had no idea why she was being so confident in front of The Hound. The man could take her down in one swing.

His one good eyebrow narrowed as he stared at her, thinking. "What could that rat have that you need?"

"My dagger. My brother gave me a dagger and they gave it to Ser Meryn when they brought me here. I need it back," she insisted.

The Hound laughed. "Are you talking about that dagger with the tree engraved on the blade?"

Her eyebrows rose. "Yes, that's the one... how do you know?"

"That cunt never shuts up about it. Here, I'll grab that precious dagger of yours. And don't you fucking run off unless you want some other man to catch you. He won't be as nice as me," he snarled as he marched up the staircase to the next floor.

_He didn't even question me about running away_, Myrna gawked up the staircase still stunned at his generosity. Soon her surprise turned into impatience. She kept pacing in circles, occasionally stopping at the window while hugging herself. The flames danced along the bay, even on the water. _How horrible_, she thought. So many men probably died right where she was looking at. Burning alive was one of the worst ways to go. Unfortunately, she had seen it first hand in her past. How many fathers and sons were lost this day? How many wives will grieve? More women would be lonely after this night, just as she was.

A scream came from the top of the stairway. Myrna paused and waited. Then she started hearing footsteps prattle down quickly. She held her breath and she released it when she saw it was The Hound and not some other man she would have to deal with on her own. When he reached the bottom he held out her dagger towards her that she had not seen for over a year, but she could barely tell it was hers. It was covered in fresh blood and she gave him a dirty look.

"It was cleaner the last time I saw it," she uttered.

The Hound growled. "There was a man in my way!" he used the dagger to point up the steps. In the other hand he held a sack but she could not tell what was inside, but it held much.

"What's that?" she pointed at the sack.

He looked down at it. "My belongings. You think I'm going to let you go on your own?" he sat the sack down for a second to grab a piece of cloth out from his pocket and clean her blade for her. After examining it for a few seconds he grabbed the blade end and handed it to her. The hilt felt right in her hand when she took it from him, the spiral wooden hilt was a common thing for a sword or dagger at Beaumont Hall.

Myrna shook her head as she pulled her attention away from her dagger. "But why? What about Joffrey?"

"Fuck Joffrey. I don't want to be here one more minute than necessary and I'm pretty damn sure you feel the same way. We need to leave now," he picked up his sack of personal items and began walking towards the hallway she came from.

"Wait," Myrna called to him. "Sansa. We can't leave Sansa here. Why don't we take her with us?"

The Hound stopped walking but didn't look back at her. "I tried. The little bird won't leave her cage," he bellowed. "No use going all the way back there. If you don't want to marry my brother I suggest you follow me," he did not wait for any response and entered the dark hallway with just a few belongings, never intending on coming back.

_He tried to take Sansa away on his own will?_ Myrna fumbled with her dagger while looking down, running her finger over the Beaumont tree sigil engraved on it. _So he was planning on leaving even before he found me? _For some reason she felt like a fool. Light from flames reflected off the silver steel on her blade. She could see her dark eyes look back at her, sad and deep. This was no way to live and sometimes sacrifices must be made. Straightening her posture, she ran out of the Round Room and to the man who was willing to take her out of this hell.


	3. Chapter 3

"You stay close. Some men won't be smart enough to stay out of my way," he barked back at her as he closed up onto the gates for exiting the Red Keep.

An angry storm was washing everything away outside; the noise of the rain nearly drowned out all the screams and shouts from the commoners on the other side trying to seek refuge inside the high walls. When they squeezed out, a few from the outside had managed to squeeze themselves in but The Hound did not care. Immediately Myrna was drenched from head to toe and feared she would lose her grip on her now slippery dagger. Not only did her dress grow heavy from absorbing all the rain water, her feet were being sucked into the mud with every step. She began to breathe heavier and soon she was falling behind on The Hound.

"Wait!" she cried out, bending over to pull a foot that had gone too deep in the mud and she ended up splashing in the mud face first with a yelp.

After wiping mud off her eyes as best she could, she saw feet marching towards her but they were not The Hound's. Her dark eyes focused on the man's snarling face. She had not seen him before but the look on his face would suggest she had done something awful to him. Not taking a chance, she swung her dagger at his ankles and he cried out when she tore his skin open. He nearly fell over, but instead positioned himself so he could get a swing at her face with his other foot. With a gasp she shielded herself with her hands, but the man only cried out again and she heard a wet thump. He was now dead on the ground, and Myrna saw The Hound kneel next to her, his own pants soaked to the bone. He grunted as he picked her up like a baby, an arm under her knees and the other arm around her waist. The ends of her dress were completely ruined and there was not a spot on her that was clean or dry. No one would be even able to tell what color it had been.

"You're already making me regret helping you," he blustered.

Myrna kept her head turned away from him. "Then leave me in the mud for Gregor if I'm such a burden," she muttered back and in a second she met the mud again. Blinking in disbelief, she supported herself with one elbow and stared back up at the man who dropped her. "What the hell!?"

"This what you want?" he growled down at her, rain dripping down his face and running like little streams in the dents on his armor. His hair was matted down over his burn, concealing most of it.

Huffing, Myrna stood back up on her own and put her dagger between her teeth. The stench of the city was rough enough just by breathing it in through her nose, but now with her mouth slightly open she could taste the foulness. Using her free hands, she bundled up the ends of her dress which exposed her legs up to her lower thigh and began walking again towards the outer wall gate. While walking she could feel The Hound's eyes on her and it only added more discomfort.

Relief came over her when she finally saw the northern gate to leave the capital but there were two guards posted near them. "Here," Myrna heard The Hound's voice come from behind her and when she turned to face him he took the dagger from her mouth with a quick swipe.

"Why don't you use your own sword!?" she spat quickly at him, standing in the mud and felt herself sinking in and not being able to chase after him. The mud was up to her ankles and she struggled to free herself while hearing clangs of metal where The Hound went; he was busy with the men. When she looked up again one man had a sword through his belly and The Hound shielded himself with her dagger from the other man. While holding the alive man off, Sandor was able to kick the dead man off his sword but his other foot sank deep into the mud. He then used his free sword to kill the second man with a single swing and stabbed him in the neck with her dagger to make sure he was dead. _He knew the mud would slow him down_, she thought and understood why he took her dagger. Still, she was upset that he just took something of hers without permission. Myrna gave him a pout when he returned to her.

Hands still full with her dress, Sandor offered to put the bloody dagger back between her teeth with what seemed like a smile on his face but she grew furious. "You really are the stupidest thing! Why would I want that bloody thing in my mouth!?" she insulted him as she turned her head away again.

"Learn to understand a joke," he said as he stuffed her dagger somewhere on him and he bent down to grab her knees and managed to pull her out of the mud. Myrna felt him not letting go of her knees, which led her to fall over his shoulder and she saw the muddy ground grow farther away when The Hound stood up. The world spun around her when he turned and marched out the gates. "You got more nerve than the red little bird, I'll tell you that," he had to shout for her to hear.

Once they were inside the stable Myrna saw the ground come at her; The Hound knelt down and placed her back on her feet quite gently. No more rain fell on their heads but they dripped enough water to make the dirt inside the stable turn into mud. She let the ends of her dress fall to the floor and gathered her hair to one side and wrung the water out of her black locks. Her attention went to further down the stable where The Hound had gone and saw he was leading a giant black horse out of its box stall. The horse was beautiful even from afar and she began walking towards them so she could get a better look at him.

When she tried to pet his mane he lifted his front legs in the air and whined. Myrna backed away quickly, nearly tripping on her dress. The Hound let out a roaring laugh. "Stranger has the loyalty of a dog, and he belongs to me. Don't ever think of going near him without me there," he boasted as he went to the wall where they held everything he needed for traveling on horse. Myrna stood by quietly as he strapped the saddle onto Stranger's back and hooked up the reins. There were also cloaks left behind, and he put one on himself and threw the other at Myrna. She wrapped herself up in the dark blue cloak and it was far too big for her but it will keep her dry. The Hound climbed onto the massive horse, hood already over his head. Myrna could barely see his face when he reached down his hand toward her. Warily she approached the horse, afraid of it reacting to her again but she was lifted up swiftly and without trouble. Both legs hung over one side of the horse and there was a groove on the front of the saddle that she could hold on to.

The Hound kicked Stranger in the side which sent them galloping out and back into the pouring rain. Myrna did not realize how fast Stranger was which led her grabbing The Hound's waist with her other arm. Most of the riding was quiet between them, as it was hard to speak while bouncing on a horse's back in a storm. Eventually Stranger came to a slower trot when they had gone a comfortable distance from the capital. Myrna recognized the northern part of the Crownlands, but to where she still did not know.

"That went easier than I thought," The Hound remarked. "Should be an inn coming soon. We'll stay there for a night, but it's camping mostly from them on..."

"I prefer sleeping outside," she replied staring straight ahead.

An inn finally came into view and The Hound made a sharp turn for it. He stopped in front of the doors and eased Myrna down onto the ground and told her to grab a room for them. Stranger began trotting towards the tiny stable the inn offered with The Hound still on his back and Myrna grabbed the rim of her hood as she made her way inside. Sighing while closing the door behind her, she lifted her hood and was greeted by warmth from fire burning in a nearby brazier. A rather short and round lady waddled towards her from a back room and smiled warmly.

"There is another with me," Myrna informed her and shortly after The Hound walked in, his hood still covering him. Myrna wondered if the lady would know him by his face.

"We need a room with two beds," he grabbed a pouch from his pocket and grabbed some silver.

The lady glanced at Myrna and looked her up and down. "Two beds? Lover's quarrel?" she japed quietly but did not hesitate to grab his coin. She told them their room was upstairs before making her way back to where she had been before.

Myrna rolled her eyes and The Hound slightly turned red under his beard and cleared his throat. "We need to leave immediately in the morning, get as much sleep as you can," he grumbled as he made his way up the creaking wooden steps to the second floor of the inn. As she followed him she began thinking more about what they exactly were doing. This was a good time to get answers, she thought as he entered a room and she followed.

The room was plain; dark with only two candles hanging on the walls for light. In the middle of their beds was a large window but were covered by closed curtains. They asked for two beds and that is pretty much what they received, besides a small wooden dresser and a dirty mirror off in the corner. The Hound pulled off the cloak quickly and threw it on the ground along with his sack but did not take off his armor. When he sat on the bed Myrna could have sworn it was going to snap into two parts. She went to investigate the drawers in the dresser to see if anything suitable to wear was in there. Nothing but dust filled the drawers, and she closed it with a sneeze.

"Where do you plan on going?" she wiped the dust off her hands as she walked around her bed and sat on the edge facing him.

He kicked his massive legs onto the bed before answering, or rather not answering. "Anywhere but here," he replied, sounding a tad tired.

"You have absolutely no plan? Why are you even leaving anyway?" she went on.

"Not your problem," The Hound stared up at the ceiling.

Sighing, Myrna crawled to the middle of her bed and sat against the backboard. She remembered all the times Joffrey would call him "dog". Maybe he finally was fed up with Joffrey's insults? It seemed odd that it would make him run off during a battle. "There's worse than Joffrey," she said softly.

He laughed at that. "I know that better than you," The Hound spat. "A high born lady like you probably don't know many things,".

"What's that supposed to mean!?" she flew her legs off the edge of the bed and stood up.

His frown hardened as he turned his head to look at her. She could see his good eye glimmer from the candlelight near his bed and there was anger in them. "You're just like Sansa. A Northern high born lady arranged to marry another high born cunt. What more should I expect besides pretty words and songs from people like you?"

Her blood boiled and her hands turned into shaking fists. " You don't even know what I've been through!" she stammered.

"Just go the fuck to sleep," he groaned loudly before turning to his side.

Myrna clenched her teeth. "I know what a burnt flesh smells like..." she hissed. Slowly, The Hound looked over his shoulder with an uncertain expression on his face. "I've seen people I love _burn_. Their _entire_ bodies... not just a part of their face!" Myrna turned her heel and left the room, slamming the door behind her. Only after a couple of steps she leaned against the cold wall in the hallway and tried to catch her breath. She didn't realize the same lady that welcomed them was watching her closely from the top of the steps with laundry folded in her hands.

"Everything alright, m'lady?" she asked kindly.

"Yes... yes, I'm fine. I just need to walk around," she struggled to find something to say.

The lady walked closer to Myrna, smiling. "Men are such a hassle sometimes, aren't they?" she leaned in and whispered.

She felt her face turn hot. "Oh, no. You don't understand..."

"Oh, but sadly I do... and my, your dress. I can't let you leave like that!" she looked at her tattered and dirty dress with shame.

Myrna stared at the laundry the lady held in her hands. "Do you... by any chance have an extra tunic and a pair of breeches I could have?"

Her answer was yes, and Myrna was overjoyed though the lady gave Myrna awkward looks after hearing that request. She was taken to another room so she could be allowed to change without bothering The Hound but the lady refused to leave and remained there to help her remove her dress.

_Not again_, Myrna looked up at the ceiling and gulped as the lady untied the back of her dress. It felt like forever, just waiting for the same reaction. Once the dress was halfway off the lady tried to hold back a gasp. The same old story came out of Myrna's mouth when she was sure the lady had noticed.

"I was hurt in an accident as a child. My father's barn had caught on fire and I tried to save the animals when a piece of burning wood fell on my lower back. I am sorry, I should have warned you," Myrna said solemnly but inside she was a battlefield.

She continued to help Myrna step out of the dress and handed her the tunic in a hurry. "Well, there is no need to apologize... Do you still need my assistance?"

"No," Myrna slipped the beige tunic on and before she even pulled it down the lady had disappeared_. Is it really that bad?_ Myrna thought, realizing she had never actually seen her burn. There were moments where she would stand before a mirror at the capital and would be tempted to turn around to see the ruins on her back. Every time she ended up too afraid and ashamed to do it. Brushing off these old feelings, she grabbed the chestnut brown breeches and stepped into them and then slipped on her shoes that were still caked with dry mud but she felt so much better. Her back was able to breathe now and moving around was no longer difficult. Myrna regretted not asking for a bath before the lady ran away, but it could not be helped now.

Eventually she made her way back to her room. She peeked through the crack of the door and saw that The Hound still lied awake, staring sternly at the ceiling. He seemed so deep in thought. Did she go too far with what she said earlier? She pushed the door open more and that caught his attention but it seemed the words he wanted to say slipped away when he saw her appearance and narrowed his eyes.

"The fuck you wearing?" he pushed himself up.

Myrna scoffed. "What the hell does it look like I'm wearing?" she climbed back into her bed like she did before. "I am not going to be traveling buffet for men to go up my skirt whenever they please. And you remember how it was back when we were leaving; I could barely walk!"

"Nobody is going to rape you with me around," he assured her with a cocky smirk on his face. "Put a decent dress on or something, don't walk around like a fucking man," he complained.

"I've been wearing breeches for almost eight years and I am not about to change just because I was forced to wear a dress at the capital," Myrna declared.

The Hound glanced at her in disbelief. "Eight years!? I thought you were a bloody high born!"

"I am," she confirmed. "I was pushed out of my hometown when I was thirteen..."

When the sorrowful memories surfaced she did not wish to continue talking about home.

"There was something about my brother and your town, wasn't there?" The Hound mumbled after some silence.

_He must be thinking about what I said earlier_, Myrna thought. "I don't want to talk about it," she turned to her side facing away from The Hound.

That was the end of their chat for the night. When Myrna closed her eyes she made a wish that often was not heard. The next time she opened her eyes she was back home and only thirteen years old. Behind her she heard a man sobbing that sent chills up her spine. Breathing hard, she ran herself into the entrance of the manor and began to bang the door with her fists. Everything around her cracked and crumbled, and she pulled on the door so hard her hands hurt and she broke a fingernail. It would not budge, and soon smoke consumed her and left her vision impaired. Swallowed in gray darkness, she curled into a ball and sobbed along with the man behind her. _Myrna_, additional voices called from behind. Voices she had heard her entire life called out for help but she was just a small, frightened girl.

"_There's nothing I can do!_" she squeaked between tears. Myrna covered her ears to stop the voices but nothing she did helped to block them out. "_Leave me alone!_" she begged and pleaded but to no avail.

"Myrna!" a voice rang loud in her ear.

"I said... _leave me alone!_" she raised an arm and swung towards the voice with all her might, but something grabbed hard onto her wrist. She tried to break free, but it was too strong. Squirming and crying, she shut her eyes tight and felt herself being dragged away. When she opened her eyes to look, everything was clear.

The Hound's usual snarling face was instead gaping at her with wide eyes. She could not help but notice his burn, completely exposed from him not fixing it when he rushed towards her. His massive hand was wrapped around her wrist, and he had been shaking her. "What's that screaming for!?" he demanded to know.

"The fire! He's here!" Myrna gasped for air while looking around, sweat dripping from her forehead. The grip around her wrist loosened and she gave her attention back to The Hound after realizing it was only another one of her night terrors. With the back of her free hand she wiped her forehead and looked down bashfully. "I'm sorry for waking you," she apologized as she pulled away from him.

He took a step towards her bed and turned around, hands on his knees as he lowered himself down onto her bed slowly. The end she sat on lifted up since she was so much lighter than him. Not knowing what else to say, she kept her chin down and hands resting on her lap.

"I need to know if my brother hurt you," he croaked, breaking the silence.

Her eyes darted across the floor rapidly, trying to think of what to say. "Why?" she asked.

"Because if you ever plan on killing him I need you to get that out of your head. If he hurt you, let me get vengeance for you," she could almost feel his voice bounce off her. Everything else was still silent.

"What did he do to you?" she asked another question now looking him in the eye.

The Hound grinded his teeth. Myrna watched him raise his hand and fix his hair so it would cover the ruins of his face. She narrowed her eyebrows, then her dark eyes widened when she understood. She pushed herself closer to him but he stood up and roamed away from her. "I understand, Sandor-"

The way he spun around frightened her, as if he were about to charge at her but instead he spat on the ground. "You? Understand? You don't know a thing. We leave now," he bent over and grabbed the sack he brought from the capital roughly and threw it over his shoulder. She watched him march out, opening the door so hard it banged against the wall and made her jump.

"You're just like me..." she mumbled to herself, thinking of her family and the wound on her back.


	4. Chapter 4

In her hand she held a dead rabbit, and a decent plump one at that. Myrna was incredibly proud of this kill. It would definitely fill their bellies. Hunting had been easier since they came across an abandoned wagon that still held supplies a fortnight ago, including a decent bow and a few arrows. The wind running past her made the air chilly, and the sun was nearly gone. As she walked back she watched the colors from the day sink away in the west and the stars grow brighter in the dark sky. Even when she was younger at Beaumont Hall she enjoyed being outside the town walls and explore the Wolfswood, and the chilly air gave her more of the feeling of home. It was in her blood to explore, as she had heard many tales of how Beaumont's would often go on expeditions beyond the Wall. Myrna always felt like sighing when she thought of her home, which is why she rarely thought of home when she could help it. It felt like there was a piece of her missing but the time that had passed only made her grow used to that feeling.

When she finally walked back into their tiny camp she looked for the fire and grumbled to herself when she saw The Hound sitting against a tree picking his nails with a dagger he had found at the wagon. It reminded Myrna of her own dagger she had strapped to her hip; she had to remind him to give it back to her shortly after their stay at the inn.

"Am I to light the fire _again_?" she asked him, throwing their meal on the ground.

He gestured at some freshly chopped hardwood. "I did the hard part," he boasted.

With a long face Myrna gathered the firewood and their flint and some tinder so she could light a small flame for them. All the while The Hound stared at her, and it was a look she was somewhat used to as a lady but often ignored it but he was beginning to get on her nerves. When she finally skinned their rabbit and hung it over the fire she glowered at him. "Can I help you?" she spat.

"Trying to figure out if you are a maiden or not," he said without shame.

She sucked in some air. "That is none of your business!" she stood up and went as far as she could so she could still feel the warmth of the fire.

The Hound barked a loud laugh. "Considering how shy you are, I am going with maiden. And an old maiden at that," he judged her.

"I'm not old," she defended herself, hugging her legs tight against her chest.

Sadly it was true. There was no man she ever trusted enough to have _that_ kind of relationship, not even her friend Desmond that she traveled with for all those years. Most high born girls her age were already wed and bore their first child, just like Queen Cersei told her at the capital. That led her to think of how Queen Cersei reacted when she had been told about their escape, and King Joffrey too. What would happen if they had ever returned there? Hopefully they never would, but Myrna had no home to return to. Beaumont Hall and her town all burned down eight years ago and she had gone from place to place ever since, hiding from Lannister men ever since she discovered they were after her. Myrna had no idea why they needed her, but she would never trust the men who fought alongside The Mountain. Recently she had thought maybe marrying her to The Mountain was their plan all along. How cruel those people were...

Becoming slightly bored Myrna took out her dagger and began cleaning it. "Have you even used that thing?" The Hound's voice asked her offensively.

"Of course," she replied, turning the blade over and carefully wiping it.

He laughed harshly. "Oh really? Have you killed hundreds of men?" he teased her.

"More or less," she said, giving him a cold stare that turned his mocking smile into a gawking expression. He seemed surprised, but then was quick to dismiss it.

"Sure you have..." he turned his head to look away from her.

This was becoming awkward for her quick so she changed the subject. "Why won't you return to wherever your home is?" she asked The Hound, interested in the rest of his family besides The Mountain. Maybe she could stay there if he goes back.

"Kings Landing was my home, after my father died and my older brother became lord of Clegane Hall," he answered her as if that was all that needed to be said, and it was. Myrna was sure The Mountain was no kind lord.

"I also have an older brother who's a knight," she rambled on. "His name is Nicholas. And my parents were-"

"Knighted by whom?" The Hound asked, sounding more interested in that.

There was a long pause.

The Hound gave her a hard look. "Well?" he pressed on.

"The Mountain," she answered with a tremble in her voice, glancing down at her dagger. She traced the engraved tree on the steel. There was another long pause. Slowly, she looked up at him again and saw he was still staring at her as if he was trying to solve a puzzle. "Nicholas helped catch some well-known cutthroat from the south that tried to hide in the north. They sent The Mountain to anoint Nicholas eight years ago," she continued, not really wanting to but she could not help but feed his curiosity and release some inner turmoil she had built inside her.

He went to help himself to the rabbit after putting his dagger away, then he sat himself back down to where he was and took a big bite. Myrna shook her head when he ripped a piece off and gestured it toward her. She was suddenly no longer hungry. He shrugged and went back to questioning her. "And? What is your _knight_ brother doing now?" he asked between chews.

In the corner of her eye Myrna saw something fly at her, too fast for her to do anything. An arrow dug deep into the bark of the tree she sat against, sending slivers flying everywhere. The Hound struggled to stand up as quick as he could, throwing the rabbit aside. Before he could arm himself a man with a bow came out from hiding, pointing an arrow right at Myrna. The Hound froze, grimacing at the man. Myrna pushed hard against the tree with her back but stared back at the man unblinking, trying to hide any fear.

"Don't even try anything, Clegane..." the man threatened The Hound. "Unless you want to see your bitch here full of arrows," he tilted his head at Myrna.

Two more bowmen went to aim at The Hound, making sure he would not try anything. Then about three more came out with ropes, one went to Myrna and two went to The Hound. _Where the hell did this lot come from?_ She gave The Hound a look but he was busy giving threatening glances at the men tying up his arms.

"Cowards. Leave the girl alone and fight a proper battle," he growled at them.

The man that came to tie her up pulled her up roughly by the arm, making her cry out. "Alright, little lady. Let's get moving here," he propped her up on her feet and twirled her around, beginning to tie a rope around her arms and waist. She winced when the bad part of her back was being pinched. He immediately found her dagger strapped to her hip and swiped it off her. After examining it, he threw it on the ground near the man aiming an arrow at her.

"You needed a new dagger, right Anguy?" he called back at him.

"Aye, that one will suit me just fine," he said impatiently without even looking down.

_No, not my dagger again..._ she thought as her heart dropped. Myrna had only possessed her dagger for a few days. Every few seconds she felt more anxious and was beginning to fear what these men plan on doing with them. _How long had they been following us? And who are they? _The idea of returning to the capital made her stomach twist into a knot but they did not wear the king's colors. In fact what they wore seemed old and battered so it was difficult to tell where they came from. To be caught by mere bandits was embarrassing, especially for her and The Hound. Though they seemed to be more skilled than average bandits; Myrna usually had a keen ear and so did The Hound but neither heard a sound from these men.

Before she knew it there was a bag over her head and she was blinded. They forced her to walk a ways and she knew The Hound was close behind her from hearing his deep muffled voice curse at the men. She began to breathe faster due to the long walk and the lack of knowing where they were going. Myrna let out a grunt when she ran into something and the man behind her grabbed her and threw her onto something. She rolled over and it took her many times to sit up straight as she had no arms to keep her balance. Then whatever she was bounced when something else was thrown on.

The Hound groaned. "Fucking cunts..." he cursed once again.

Fresh air hit her face when a man on the side of the wagon, that she could now see, took the bag off. He walked in a circle and did the same to The Hound. His hair was flipped over on his good side which exposed his burn, and she could see it being pulled from him having a furious expression on his face. The anger on his face softened when he saw her across from him. A breeze sent her dark curls flying in her face which she could not pull away, adding to her irritation. The wagon jerked and the party of men who captured them began making their way to their destination. Myrna looked off the sides and all she saw were tall trees on either side of the dirt road, shadows looked like they were dancing deep in the forest. Everything was hard to see in the night and it was uncomfortable to feel so helpless.

Neither one of them said a thing during their time on the wagon. When she looked at him he was either staring down at the wagon floor or off to the side into the darkness. _He's probably as embarrassed as I am_, she thought. Perhaps more since he promised to protect her. When dawn began to break they came to a halt in front of a tavern. She could not get a wink of sleep due to the rough roads making it hard on them in the wagon. When a man jumped onto the wagon to help her up she felt numb on her behind and everywhere else ached, especially her dry and tightened back. The only good thing about her ropes was that it kept her tunic down and no one would see the burn above her tailbone.

The Hound recognized this particular man. "Thoros?" he questioned him.

The man gave him a quirky smile. "Good to see you again, Clegane..." he said as he helped Myrna jump down onto the dirt with his hands on her waist. She stared at him warily and confused. Thoros looked back at her after responding to The Hound. "We go way back," he chuckled and turned her around and led to into the tavern doors.

In the corner of a tavern a scuffle broke out as Thoros and some other men sat Myrna and The Hound at a table, but not many seemed to pay attention to it. What caught Myrna's attention was one of the voices. It was a woman's, and so familiar she had a name on the tip of her tongue. She twisted as far around as her ropes would allow her, trying to peek around the bodies that were interfering with her view.

"What are you doing?" The Hound whispered hoarsely as he looked down at her.

"Tell me what you see," she replied with her eyes still glued to the corner of the room. There were so many men crowded into the tavern and they were all in the wrong spots so she could not see a single thing that was going on.

He struggled himself to look behind them but he was tall enough to see what the fuss was about, and he scoffed. "A fucking Dornish whore is actually beating the shit out of one of these cunts," he turned back around and tried to adjust himself. "Serves them right," he added under his breath but one of the men heard and gave him a good whack on the top of his head.

_A Dornish whore?_ Myrna was so taken back she did not even realize The Hound was struck.

"Oh no..." she quickly turned back around and did her best to hide, keeping her head down and not looking anywhere. Most of the men shouted a hoot after a huge bang, which sounded like a table had been broken. The woman's voice laughed with them as if she had been victorious. It was a laugh that sent her way back.

After cursing under his breath he gave his attention back to her. "What's the matter now?" he said with agitation.

"I know her. You can't let her see me," Myrna gave The Hound a pleading look and then looked back down at the table.

"Who is she?" The Hound asked, but then footsteps approached them from behind and Myrna watched The Hound from the corner of her eye to see his reaction but he showed none as the person kept coming nearer. Myrna's knees were shaking. What if it was her?

In front of them sat Thoros, smiling as always and he held a mug in his hand. Myrna let out a soft exhale and relaxed her shoulders. "I hope you two are comfortable," he said almost genuinely and then he swallowed whatever was in the mug, most likely rum from the sour smell of it. He gave his attention to Myrna. "I'm sorry this is happening to you, little lady. But a friend of The Hound is an enemy to us," he smirked.

"What did he even do to you?" she asked him, trying to keep her voice down.

Thoros stood up swiftly and walked around the table. They both followed him with their eyes. "That will have to wait 'til trial, I'm afraid..." he informed them.

"Nothing to you lot!" The Hound barked loudly at all of them. "You're just-"

The same guy from before was making his way again to The Hound, and this time Myrna saw him raising his hand to strike.

"_Don't hit him!_" Myrna shrieked.

Silence filled the tavern and the man stood over The Hound, his arm froze in the air as if he did not expect her to yell that loud. Then suddenly Myrna realized she made a mistake and she winced. The same woman's voice from before started coming closer.

"Who is that?" the pretty voice was behind Thoros and then Myrna watched her walk around him. She was eight years older but still the same woman. She was of Dornish descent, and tall for a woman but also shapely. The golden color of her silk exoic dress stood out amongst her darkened skin, which most was exposed. Her short raven black hair was pulled back with a golden band and her big dark eyes examined Myrna, and they widened with surprise. "Sweetling..." she gasped in her southern accent as she ran towards her, and Myrna was impacted with a strong hug.

Myrna just sat there as she was being held; she needed arms to hug back. "Brenda..." she softly said.

"You're alive!" she exclaimed as she pulled away but kept her hands on Myrna's shoulders. Brenda examined every inch of her. "And you have tits now!" she laughed, and some of the men chuckled as well even though they had no idea what was going on.

Thoros walked slowly over to the reunited ladies and placed his mug gently down and then began to pull Brenda away from Myrna. "She is in our custody. I'm going to have to ask you to keep your distance," he said but was suddenly pushed back by Brenda harshly. The look on his face made Myrna guess he half expected that to happen.

"I was to wed her brother! You're telling me to keep distance from my sister?! She's my family!" Brenda crudely spat at him in his face.

Myrna did not know where to look. If she kept looking at Brenda she would only be faced with questions. They would be questions she would not want to answer; they would be about the fate of her home and her brother. Brenda was not there when it all happened. If Myrna were to turn around and away from Brenda, however, she would have to look at The Hound. She knew he would also have questions or at the very least give her his hard gaze which made her irritated. She simply kept her head down and stared at the table while Thoros tried to calm down Brenda. Everyone in that room felt like a stranger to her.

"If The Hound is innocent then you have nothing to worry about," Thoros assured Brenda.

Brenda looked back at them, but mostly at The Hound now. Her dark eyes squinted as she examined him. "He does not look like the innocent type. You think this will calm me?" she whirled back around, facing Thoros. "Release Myrna this minute. She surely has nothing to do with this!"

"I will have the same fate as Sandor Clegane," Myrna said aloud, now looking up.

Everyone looked at her. Shyly, she glanced at him and saw The Hound gaping at her with soft eyes. Why did she get so angry when Brenda insulted The Hound? No matter the reason, Myrna was making it known she was on The Hound's side. He claims to have done nothing to them and Myrna knew he would never lie.

"I've heard things about The Hound, Myrna. He is no man you want to be with!" Brenda exclaimed as she put her hands on her wide hips. "Why are you even with him? What happened to Desmond?" she went on with a motherly tone to her voice.

Myrna opened her mouth but nothing came out. Her face turned red and she went right back to having her chin down. Does Brenda think she is _with_ him?

"She's not my woman," The Hound strongly defended them for Myrna.

The conversation ended when the tavern door swung open and a proud looking man stepped in. The entire Brotherhood inside the tavern stood up and faced him. He wore a purple lightning on his chest, and a black cloak hung on his back. A longsword hung on his hip and he held the hilt as he gazed around the tavern. "We move again. We're heading straight to hollow hill," he commanded, and gave a quick look to Myrna and The Hound before turning back around and walking out.

"Beric Dondarrion?" The Hound rasped to himself.

All the men immediately poured out the door, following the man. _Is he their leader? It seems The Hound knows him._ Myrna wondered as a man pulled her up and out of her seat, but more gently this time as Brenda had an eye on him. She had to walk quickly to keep up with the man, and soon her and The Hound were thrown onto the same wagon except this time they had more company. Brenda hopped on and sat next to her with a concerned look on her face, but she smiled all the same.

A man on the side of the wagon handed Brenda two empty woolen bags and gave her the command to put them on Myrna and The Hound. Clenching her teeth, she obeyed. First she placed it over The Hound's head, with the clear look of disgust on her face. It was hard for her to look at his burn. Then she knelt down in front of Myrna.

"I'm sorry, sweetling..." she apologized as she gently put the bag on her head. Everything went dark and the bag smelled of wheat. In a matter of moments she heard the wagon slowly creak as the wheels began turning and soon they were bumping along the road again.

Soon her back ached horribly, and she had to deal with it for a long time. She wished the ride would soon be over but at the same time she was afraid what would happen when they stopped. Thoros claimed there would be a trial, but how fair were these men?

Brenda's hushed voice whispered near the side of her face. "I won't let them hurt you," she promised.

Those words made everything surreal. Was she really ready to face the same punishment as The Hound if he were to be found guilty? His punishment was likely to be death. If Brenda kept her word, she had nothing to fear but not even Brenda could defend her against all these men. Somehow if she could get untied she could probably run for it but she would never forgive herself for leaving behind The Hound. She is all he has, and she knew no one else would stand up for him. Her thoughts disappeared when she felt a jerk from the wagon coming to a halt and she nearly toppled over but Brenda grabbed onto her. Feet jumped up onto the wagon, and someone bigger than Brenda picked her up. They did not take off the bag so early this time. After walking some ways downhill, she felt her toe scrap against an unexpected rock and nearly tripped.

"Careful, young lady..." the man holding onto her warned her.

The further down they went, the hotter it became. Soon Myrna was sweating and she wished for fresh cool air. She wanted to wipe beads of sweat off her forehead and neck but her arms were still tied down against her waist. Finally they came to a stop and the bag came flying off her. When Myrna looked around all she saw were small fires lit in random spots on a cave floor, and some torches hung along the wet walls. She felt a tug on her rope and instantly she felt relief as the ropes were cut off and fell to the ground. Myrna rubbed her upper arms where the ropes had been digging into her skin. Her back also ached but she held herself back from rubbing it, not wanting anyone to see she was hurt there. Soon came The Hound, and he still was blinded from the bag but once the men helped him to his spot they took his off just as quick as they did to her. They did not remove his ropes, though. Myrna knew they weren't that stupid.

The entire Brotherhood circled them. Myrna spotted Brenda among them, and there were other women too dressed as she was. _So you ended up going back to your old habits_, Myrna disappointedly thought. Brenda had been a whore most of her life, or so she told Myrna back when they lived at Beaumont Hall. Nicholas had fallen in love with her, and together they had a rocky relationship that deserved a song. Brenda swore to never return to her old job but there she was. It seemed Brenda knew what Myrna was thinking but her mind was occupied with other things, most likely this trial.

"You sons of whores are all cowards," The Hound barked at them. He had sweat dripping from his forehead and his burn glistened red against the light from the flames. Myrna could see some fear in his eyes but figured he was doing his best to not be afraid. _Why would he be afraid in the first place_, she wondered. He was one of the strongest warriors in Westeros.

"And the King's guard dog that ran away from the Blackwater battle is no coward?" a voice boomed from within the crowd, and men stepped aside to reveal the man that had led them out of the tavern. Now his sword was in his right hand, and on his left he held a shield that had a matching purple lightning bolt from his vest.

Myrna took a step back while examining him. Then she looked to The Hound and he back at her. "Sandor is no coward," she tried to defend him. "Even if he did run, why put him on trial for it? He did not abandon _you_," Myrna went on but felt she only made it sound worse.

"I'm afraid that is not the reason he is here," Beric remarked.

A man she did not recognized stepped out from the crowd. "The Lannister's have slain too many. Each of us has seen countless of loved ones fall to Lannister swords. House Clegane especially has taken advantage of our lives just so you can please those monsters you serve," he sneered.

"The Targaryen children were laid in front of the throne before my own eyes. House Clegane was built upon the deaths of innocence," Thoros added.

The Hound growled. "My _brother_ did that. I was never there!" he roared. "If you want to call me a murderer than give me names of real men I have cut," The Hound walked around, staring at the crowd. Nearly every man in the crowd began shouting names but with every name it only angered The Hound more. He claimed to have never killed any of them or even heard their names. That infuriated Myrna. These men were putting him on trial for crimes he did not commit? Sure, he was notorious for killing but he is also well known for speaking the truth. If The Hound killed someone he would not be afraid in the least to admit it. In fact he _wanted_ you to know.

"You murdered my friend! You killed Mycah!" a small voice cried out. Myrna watched as a dirty child pushed himself out of the crowd so he could be heard. There had never been a more angry expression on a child's face.

The Hound took a few steps so he could see who was accusing him. "Who're you, boy?" he snarled, his scar pulling his face in an unpleasant manner.

"I'm not a boy, I'm a girl! And you killed the butchers boy, my friend Mycah!" the tomboy shouted.

For a second The Hound was puzzled but then he came to a realization. "Seven hells, you're the young Stark girl. How the hell did you end up here?"

_Stark?_ Myrna blinked as she looked back at the boy who was now a girl. She remembered Sansa mentioning her younger sister but she couldn't remember the name. Was this truly Sansa's sister in front of them? How did she end up with men like this? So many questions ran through her head in a short amount of time but she had to listen to the rest of the trial.

"Do you admit to killing this Mycah?" Beric intervened.

Myrna looked at The Hound with uncertainty. This did not sound good.

"Aye, the boy attacked the prince. It was my duty to protect him," The Hound stated.

The Stark girl yelled again. "He didn't attack Joffrey. I did! He just ran away and you killed him!"

"It's not my place to question princes!" The Hound shouted back.

Beric stepped in and raised his sword to signal everyone to calm down. It took him a moment to collect his thoughts and everyone waited for him to say something. "No one here knows the truth or falsehood so it is not for us to decide but our God," he called out. Myrna saw the look on the young Stark girl's face turn into a devastated one. "This will be solved by a trial by combat," he eyed The Hound.

A twisted smile appeared on The Hound's face. "You're mad," he cackled. "Alright. So who will it be? Who wants to die today?" he walked in a small circle to face the crowd around them.

"Not so fast, dog. The Lord of Light spoke to me and commanded me to give you a champion," Beric softly said and the only other noise within the cave were the crackling of the flames. "As will I have my own champion..." he swiftly turned and looked upon his crowd.

The Hound took a few steps toward Beric but stopped knowing he could not do anything without his arms. "What do you mean I can't fight my own battle!?" he roared, spit flying out of his mouth. Myrna heard Thoros chuckle at him.

Beric ignored The Hound's objection. "Who will be the champion for The Hound?" he asked the crowd.

_No one will willingly be his champion_, Myrna knew. Looking at the faces in the crowd all she saw were sneers and glowering eyes, including the young girl and Brenda. These people wanted The Hound's brother dead. They despised House Clegane, including The Hound. It would be ridiculous for them to allow him to fight, and Myrna was sure the "lord of light speaking to him" was folly. The Hound would win the battle in a heartbeat and these men knew that. There was nothing else that she could do but this one thing. Her heart began to race and she held her breathe before taking a step toward the leader.

"I will be Sandor Clegane's champion!" Myrna cried out.


	5. Chapter 5

Beric watched her closely and took a few steps until he was in front of her. "You do know this is to the death? And that your pet here will suffer the same fate as you?" his voice was as smooth as silk.

"I understand," she replied.

The Hound had to step in. "You're fucking mad if you do this!" he roared at her.

Some people in the crowd became angry as a person pushed through to reach the open area. Myrna watched as Brenda tried to run towards them but people held her back. "I won't allow it!" she screamed, trying her best to break free. "Myrna, don't do this!" she cried out.

"He is innocent and I will free him!" Myrna shouted back. She gave Beric a stern look and he nodded, pulling out his sword and laying it at her feet. He gave a command to Thoros to give up his own sword so it would be used for Beric's champion. Myrna was anxious to find out who her opponent was, but it was unlikely for it to be anyone she knew. Over Brenda's wails Beric looked upon them and eyed a particular man. He curled his finger towards him signaling the man to walk over. The man was huge, almost as tall as The Hound but he had a meaner look to him. He had no hair on top of his head but a long beard with braids intertwined within it. He wore no armor but some rags and breeches and some worn out boots from traveling.

The man towered over Beric and frowned. "Do you have a problem fighting this lady, Arthur?" he asked.

His glassy green eyes inspected her. "The Mountain raided my village. Raped my pregnant wife. Killed her and my unborn child. If this little one wishes to defend his blood then I will squeeze that pretty neck and take pleasure in sending her to one of the seven hells," he boomed.

Myrna felt something come at her from her side and peered up at The Hound who was panting and trying to find something to say. "Don't..." he began, shaking his head. Sweat dripped off his face and his eyes darted back and forth between hers.

"Remember when you asked me if I had ever used my dagger?" she asked him softly.

His mouth tightened and he shook his head. "That man will kill you. He's almost as big as I am," he hoarsely whispered back, dismissing what she asked him. "Back down. It's better than both of us dying," he said in a surprisingly kind tone despite the dryness of his throat.

"Maybe I've been training to kill giant men for the past eight years," she replied sharply.

The Hound blinked with surprise and she broke off her gaze as she approached Beric and the man. The crowd was throwing slanders at her. Every name in the book was said about her but she knew they were just trying to hurt her fighting spirit. They wanted her to die so The Hound would follow her.

"Myrna, please..." she heard Brenda plead once more but she dismissed it.

Arthur picked up Thoros' sword and gave it a few swings as Beric gave them both a curt nod and stepped away. Myrna's sword still laid at her feet. Her eyes examined every inch of him and tried to pinpoint his weak spots. _His reach is longer than mine, but I can still do this..._ she watched him practice his deadly blows. Then he finally began marching towards her. When Myrna walked around her sword and faced him empty handed most gasped, and some laughed. She heard The Hound and Brenda clamor angrily but she blocked them out. With two hands Arthur raised his sword high and yelled out as he slammed it straight down where she stood, but she charged to the right and avoided the blow. Before he picked his sword up she stepped close to him and gave a sharp strike on his wrist. Arthur yelped and shook his wrist, only one hand holding onto the sword but she was cautious and backed away for now. Some people laughed at that. He grabbed his sword again with two hands but she could see his left hand did not grip so well anymore. Once again he raised the sword high and made the same mistake again. When Myrna dodged she was able to land another strike on the same hand. This time he cried out from not being able to feel his hand.

Deciding to take a chance this time, Myrna tried to strike his right hand but he picked up the massive sword with just that single hand. Gasping, she crouched down quickly when she saw the sword coming at her from a sideways swing. She felt the blade cut the air above her head. Then he raised the sword and it landed where she had been crouching seconds ago; she rolled over more to the right and near his ankles.

Sweat dripped in her eyes and she quickly wiped them away before hitting two strikes in a row at one of his kneecaps. Myrna backed away quickly as he collapsed on the knee she punctured with her fingers and he held himself up with his sword. The way she had backed away was clumsy and with a cry she landed on her rear and saw that her strikes were not enough to paralyze his knee. Now the crowd was really riled up and they encouraged Arthur to go after her now. Arthur stood back up while grunting loudly and he cried out when he used his good hand to raise his sword. All the veins in that arm were popping out. Myrna felt the blade Beric gave her from behind and she quickly snatched it and grabbed the hilt and laid the flat of the sword on her other hand to attempt to block the strike.

"Myrna, _no!_" she heard Brenda wail.

"Kill her! The Hound has to die!" the Stark girl cried out to the man from the other end of the cave.

The sword came down with a loud clang and the swords screeched as the steel blades scraped against the other. Myrna clenched her teeth and her arms shook violently as she positioned her sword where she needed it so Arthur's blade would not reach her face. The man walked closer to her and he now had two legs on either side of her and he lifted up the sword to try and get another good swing. When he lifted his sword Myrna threw her foot up and thrusted it in his crotch area. He lost his sword and with his good hand grabbed himself while yelling in pain. Again, she used her foot and with the heel of her boot she sent it flying at his hand that held his crotch. She heard a crack and he yelled again now looking at his hand that was now broken. Angry, he lifted his foot and stomped on her stomach hard. Myrna howled in pain and tried to find a nerve to pinch but the nearest one was out of reach. The giant scar on her back was in agony from being rubbed against the uneven, rocky cavern ground. His teeth bared down at her as he continued to dig his foot deeper into her stomach. Having no other choice, Myrna used the sword as best she could while having the air pushed out of her but her swing was too weak.

The sword was heavy and it came crashing down at her side, but she still held on. Arthur began to laugh. "This is what you deserve for defending trash like a Clegane," he sneered, the light from the flames bounced off his shiny bald head and his nose was dripping with sweat.

Myrna stared at his heavy foot that pinned her to the ground. If she could not swing the sword, she could use it the other way. Looking back up at him, she smiled despite the distress on her body and pulled the sword close to his ankle. When he saw that she was about to slide it across his skin he immediately pulled his foot away but Myrna threw her lower body up and grabbed his ankle with her thighs, and twisted. The bone in his ankle popped and he cried louder than he ever did during the trial. Myrna rolled over and crawled away while still holding onto the sword, coughing and gasping for air.

"_Kill that cunt!_" she heard The Hound boom from the edge of the open area where he stood. "_Don't let him get back up!_"

When she felt like she could stand, she used the sword to help her up while wheezing and she turned around to look at Arthur. Both his hands were useless, and his broken ankle disabled him from walking. She slowly walked towards him, sword dragging behind her. The crowd began yelling, and she couldn't tell if they were for her or against her. It didn't matter. Arthur was a dead man.

He laid on his back and held his pathetic hands over his head. The man was shaking from the fear of dying, but she did not care. Myrna held the sword as high as she could, and she swung it down with all her might. The blade cut through his hand, but only went halfway through his skull. his arms went limp and fell to his sides. Myrna put her foot on the man's chest and pulled it out, dark blood streaming out of the man's head and hands. It was not good enough. Once again she lifted the bloody sword in the air and screamed loud when she swung it into the already opened skull and this time she felt the back of the head. It slid out with ease.

"_No...!_" she heard the Stark girl's voice over the others. Her vengeance was taken from her.

The hilt of the sword slipped from her hands and it fell to the ground with a _clink_. It was over with and she held her stomach as she tried to catch her breath. Her stomach felt ill from breathing in the scent of blood and probably from the man's boot being so buried in her. She tried to remember the last time she had a challenge like this. Years, perhaps. Her knees burned from all the movement and the wet cavern ground looked as comfortable as any bed she'd seen. After she regained stamina she finally began to sense what was happening around her. She gathered her frizzy damp curls and threw them over one shoulder as she gave The Hound a proud look. His mouth was slightly open as if he had never seen a lady kill a man, but there was also relief in his eyes.

"Tell me your name," Beric's voice boomed louder than she had ever heard. Myrna averted her eyes for a few seconds and decided she had no choice but to obey.

She faced Beric and looked him in the eye. "My name is Myrna of House Beaumont," she answered loudly.

"Beaumont..." Beric tasted her family name. Him and Thoros looked at each other at the same time with the same look on their face. Beric gave Myrna back his attention. "The younger sister of Nicholas Beaumont?"

Myrna looked over at Brenda but she shook her head. If she never told him, then how? "And how do you know my brother?" she carefully questioned him.

"I was there at the capital when The Mountain and his party returned from your home to anoint your brother. No one had ever seen him so angry. All he said was 'Nicholas' over and over again. 'Nicholas... Nicholas...' Soon we learned that this Nicholas is the only man to have ever belong to The Mountain and leave with his head on his shoulders. His treachery was paid with The Mountain burning his home to the ground... and the younger sister was missing and was most likely thought to be dead in a ditch but here she stands before us," Beric smiled for the first time.

Her eyes went to the ground. He may have known more than anyone else, but not the whole story. Still, she felt naked. That was too much about her and too many ears heard. "Are we free to go?" she looked back up as she changed the subject.

Thoros swiftly went to Beric's side and spoke softly but still loud enough for everyone to hear. "The Mountain had Lannister's search for her all this time. He wants her and will most likely look for her again. She's the best bait we've ever had. Think about it..." he urged Beric.

"Myrna is _not_ bait for my brother!" The Hound roared. "You wanted trial by combat and she won. Now let us leave before I shove a sword up your sorry arses," he threatened as if he were free already.

It was the first time Myrna heard The Hound say her name aloud, and he was so quick to defend her. It felt sweet and it made her heart beat faster. She stared at him and he noticed, and he averted his gaze so he could continue glaring at the men who held them.

Then she looked to Brenda when she noticed that she had been quiet. Brenda's face darkened, probably because of the talk of Nicholas. How much did Brenda know?

"The Lord of Light freed them for a reason, Thoros. We cannot keep them any longer," Beric decided.

Men rushed towards them. As quick as they had taken the bags off their heads they were right back on, but they did not retie Myrna up. Strong hands held onto her and now it was an uphill climb to exit the cave which was even worse than going downhill. Often her feet would slip from the slick ground they were on and she would land on her knees. The hands holding onto her would roughly pick her up and keep her going. Then they were thrown onto the same wagon again once they reached flat ground. Her clothes were becoming damp and she felt drops on her exposed skin. When Myrna asked where they were dropping them off no one would reply. She felt like she was talking to a wall.

The ride away did not feel as long as the ride there but it was just as uncomfortable, and more wet. The only good thing was that it was a light rain. No matter if her eyes were open or shut, everything around her was black. She calmed herself by closing her eyes, pretending there was a world to be seen if she were to open them. Brenda's face kept appearing. It had been a long time since she saw her, and seeing her again refreshed her memories of Brenda. It was her pretty Dornish face that helped her greatly in her profession and she remembered the day Nicholas introduced her to Brenda, the first person of Dornish descent she had ever met. Dark skinned, tall and busty was as exotic as one woman could be in the North. Brenda had used her charm to immediately make Myrna glad to be her future sister, but it had been a different story with their parents. Charm was not enough to marry a noble lord's son.

The wagon halted to a stop rather gently and it bounced when someone came to swipe the bag off her head and throw her off. Myrna landed on her knees and hands, and as she stood back up she wiped the mud on her hands off on her breeches. Her attention was first directed to the sound of hooves walking around the wagon.

"Stranger," Myrna smiled despite being treated like trash. It was hard to believe they were giving their horse back to them and he had everything they left on him.

The Hound was pushed off after her, and he fell hard to the ground with his limbs still tied down. He did not take that as lightly as she had. Stranger neighed loudly when he landed as if he knew that was The Hound. Myrna ran to his side and helped him sit up straight and saw her dagger land next to them. When she looked up she saw Anguy smile down at her as the wagon rolled away. "Blades were never my thing," he called to them while raising up his bow to aim an arrow at them. "If you untie him before we're out of sight, you'll die!" he had to say louder now for them to hear him.

Silently they watched them roll away, Myrna with a hand on The Hound's shoulder as she crouched next to him. Once they disappeared over a hill she reached for her dagger and began to cut at the ropes binding his arms down. He watched her cut the final strand and he exhaled loudly once he moved his arms around for the first time. Myrna stood up and backed away to give him room to push himself up and stretch. He had his back turned to her and he went to rub Stranger's nose. Myrna wasn't so sure of what to say so she just stood there fiddling with her dagger.

The Hound mounted Stranger and looked to her as he pulled out his cloak from the sack he kept on Stranger. Rain became coming down more rapid. "Let's get moving," he ordered.

She walked over next to Stranger and grabbed onto The Hound's hand as he lifted her up in front of him. The Hound handed her the cloak she wore when they first left King's Landing and she quickly wrapped it around herself. Her legs dangled off the edge and she wrapped an arm around his waist. The Hound kicked Stranger's side and they trotted down the road that had tall pine trees on either side. Soft fog rolled by due to the rain which hindered their sight. Worry came over her once she started to realize that they barely had any money left and they didn't have as much supplies or food anymore thanks to the Brotherhood. Considering how quiet The Hound was, she figured he had that realization awhile back. Perhaps they could find a place to lodge, a village that would be fine with them moving in for the winter. Most knew about The Hound, though, and Myrna figured it would be difficult to find a place that would welcome him. They had to think of a plan. There was no way they could survive in the winter by just camping wherever they ended up when the sun set.

"That was stupid of you," he finally rasped.

Myrna kept looking down the road and all she saw was a wall of white between the trees. "No one else would have been your champion. I had no choice," she replied.

"Still..." he trailed off. "Don't throw your life away so easily. Especially for me," he continued.

"Maybe you're my only friend," she said sadly.

He made a scornful sound. "That Dornish whore back there seemed friendly enough towards you," he claimed. "What was all that about anyway?"

"It was just as she said. She was to marry my brother Nicholas," she murmured.

He remained quiet for a minute as if he was thinking. "All of a sudden this Nicholas is everywhere. Even Beric mentioned him and my brother along with it. And if it's true that my brother wants yours dead..."

"I don't really want to talk about our brothers," Myrna became snippy.

"All I'm saying is that one day I'm going to put an end to my brother. Then yours will no longer be in danger. Doesn't that make you happy?" he croaked as they came to a fork on the road. The Hound made a quick decision and picked a path without even stopping Stranger. "That can be my payment for you," he added more softly.

Her eyes shyly went to the ground. He could not know, so she did not get angry at him. When she was looking down at the muddy road they were on she realized he was following the fresh tracks from the wagon they had been riding on. She doubted that was a coincidence. Myrna held her tongue and let him pursue them for awhile longer. The day was getting shorter and soon they would need to camp before it became dark and foggy. Chances were they wouldn't be able to catch up and for Myrna that would be preferable. They had enough trouble with the Brotherhood.

As she expected, The Hound slowly made Stranger come to a stop when there was a clearing next to them. He nudged her side and she lifted herself off of Stranger first. Most of their belongings they had left were wrapped up behind The Hound. When he swung his leg over and lifted himself down he grabbed what was left of their belongings and there was hardly anything.

"Shall I try to find some rabbit?" Myrna asked.

His chin went down before responding. "They took our bow and arrows," he replied abruptly.

"But I have this," she raised her dagger, drops of water running off the blade.

When he looked to see what she was holding he glared at her. "This is no fucking joke. We need food," he grumbled.

"Then I'll be back with a rabbit," she disputed before turning around and walked into the small clearing. Myrna stopped and turned back around towards The Hound. "And there better be a fire burning when I get back!" she added and his glare only intensified. Myrna continued walking until she was in the pine woods, ignoring his mean looks.

The rain made it unlikely for her to find anything. Still, she had to prove to him that she could hunt with her dagger. Myrna had done it a few times before with it. If it were properly thrown, it could easily kill small game. Every time she had done it, though, the weather had been on her side. Not wandering too far from the clearing, she crept behind every tree and peered around. All she saw were squirrels crawling on the trunks, too far and too small for her to even attempt.

It felt like forever and the only reason she stayed as long as she did was that the pine trees gave her some shelter from the rain. _Perhaps it would be better to sleep over here_, she thought, but she didn't want to risk starting a forest fire. Nothing was running around for her to catch. Myrna dragged her feet when she turned around and admitted defeat. Earlier she killed a man two times bigger than her, but she couldn't catch a silly rabbit in the fog and rain.

When she entered the clearing she saw The Hound crouching by some sticks that were apparently their fire wood. He was scraping flint over the tinder and grimaced every time he did a stroke. The rain had nearly stopped, but everything was still too wet for a comfortable camp. _Everything_ agitated her at this point.

"No fire yet?" she crossed her arms when she walked up to him, dagger still in one of her hands.

He peered up at her and looked at her hands. "No rabbit?" he mocked as he looked away angrily. "And I'm bloody trying!" he roared and stroked faster only to throw everything down seconds later.

"The only time you try is when everything is as fucking wet as a whore's cunt!" Myrna screamed at him.

The Hound stood up and towered over her. "What do you want me to do!?" he hollered back, spit flying on her face but she didn't dare flinch. "We have no fucking money! No fucking food! No fucking dry place to stay!"

"You didn't have to come with me when I left King's Landing!" she yelped back.

The Hound cackled a mean laugh in her face. "I didn't leave because of _you_. I was going to leave no matter what so don't think you're so fucking special!"

"I can't be around you right now," she whispered sharply as she turned around hugging herself. There was nowhere to go, though. All she had was a pissed off man to help her survive. For now she decided to would go back to the pine woods and cool off. When she entered she found the biggest trunk and sat next to it while hugging her knees and resting her head against the hard bark. She began breathing heavier and sniffled. It had been a long time since she felt so helpless and alone like the way she felt now. About a year ago when she was brought to the capital was the last time she felt this lonely. Tears ran down her cheeks and she wiped them away, and she had to keep wiping as there was no end to them.

Behind her she heard footsteps softened by the damp grass and she buried her face in her arms. "Go away," she muffled.

"It's better under the trees," The Hound's voice was behind her but he did not sound as angry as he did earlier. "Why are you crying?"

Myrna refused to answer because she knew her voice would be weak and shaky from her sobs. One thing she hated was to be thought as fragile. She just shook her head while keeping it buried away from view.

She could feel his warmth as he sat next to her. He was unusually quiet. Myrna swallowed her sobs and tried to dry her face as best she could. Night had come and it was colder than she thought it would be. The hair on her body all stood up. Myrna wished there was a fire to warm her.

"You shouldn't ask me to build fires anymore. I don't like fire," he hoarsely told her. "When I was small my brother found me playing with one of his toys. It was a little wooden knight and I was a silly little boy who thought that one day I would be a knight like my father and grandfather..." he went on and Myrna raised her head slightly.

She wiped the last of her tears away and sat up straighter as she paid more attention to his voice. "When my brother walked in he did not say anything at all. He just... walked up to me. I thought he was just going to take it away but no. He picked me up instead. My face was pushed into the brazier... and the pain was terrible," his usually hard voice was very soft. It almost sounded as if he were going to start crying with her.

Shock paralyzed her for a few seconds. When she took in his story she slowly turned herself around to look at him. His eyes met hers. She wanted so badly to say something, but she could not think of the right words to say. Myrna broke their gaze at each other and looked down at her lap. She gently placed her dagger on the ground and her hands went up the her collar and she began taking off her cloak.

"What... What are you doing?" The Hound asked with his deep voice slightly trembling.

Myrna faced away again and sat on her knees. She took in a deep breath and closed her eyes. "Lift my shirt..." she commanded him.

"Why?" he asked hoarsely but she felt her shirt lift up in the back. His hand froze midway. "How...?" he changed his question.

Now that he had seen she quickly pulled away so her shirt would be free of his hand and fell back down. She gathered her cloak and wrapped herself in it once more before sitting facing him. "It was like Beric said. Your brother knighted mine eight years ago. They were our guests that night, Gregor and his men. I was asked to do some chore or something and I wandered outside to see the gates wide open and there were shouts. I went to see what was going on... and I saw Gregor kill one of _his_ men. I was frightened. I said nothing... until the next morning when I saw my brother Nicholas in chains. Gregor put the blame on my brother and I couldn't keep my stupid mouth shut. In front of everyone I... I called him out. I don't remember what happened right after that. Gregor struck me across the head. He had this weird smile though..." Myrna stopped talking as Gregor's face came to mind. Every other time he had this terrible frown on his face except for that one moment when he had a good look at her. She had almost forgot about it.

"My brother? Smiling? You were probably dreaming..." The Hound rasped. "So... what happened then?"

"I woke up at my friend Desmond's house deep in town. When I walked back to my manor it was on fire..." she paused again. How could she say it? "That's how _this_ happened," she said quickly.

The Hound seemed to want to know more, but he let it drop. "So awhile back when you said you understand... you were not lying," he seemed to be talking more to himself than her.

They were both exhausted and stopped talking about their pasts. Myrna laid down on her side and placed her dagger within arms reach; The Hound leaned against the trunk of a tree and kept his blade near his hip on the ground. She kept her eyes open despite being so tired. In her mind she was going through what happened since they were caught by the Brotherhood, and the conversation she just had with The Hound stood out amongst everything. Somehow she felt they had began to bond with one another, almost the way she had bonded with Desmond. Myrna found herself beginning to care for him. Why else would she had defended him?

Her thoughts were interrupted by some noise within the pine woods, but she ignored them. Myrna attempted to close her eyes and sleep but they opened again. The noises were coming closer and she tried to listen closely to see if she could decipher what it was.

The Hound made a groan as he quickly found his feet, and she heard him pull his sword out of its sheath. Myrna jerked up to see what was happening.

"Don't move!" he bellowed at someone and he was ready to charge.

_Not again..._ Shaken, she peered over her shoulder to see who it was. Myrna's jaw dropped.


	6. Chapter 6

"Wait, you told me you were taking me to my brother!" the young girl from the Brotherhood snapped at another familiar face.

In the darkness Myrna made out Brenda standing cautiously and a hand was firmly grasped on the Stark girl's shoulder. Her eyes were glued on The Hound who threatened them. "Okay, now. Take it easy... just hear me out..." she calmly pleaded.

"Did you lead the bloody Brotherhood back here!? I _knew _those cunts wouldn't let me go alive," The Hound growled.

Myrna slowly stood up and put herself between The Hound and Brenda to try and calm everyone down but she was uneasy herself. Her hand gripped her dagger so tight her knuckles turned white. She faced towards Brenda and would occasionally glance at the Stark girl who glowered at everyone. "What is this, Brenda?"

"Money. Stark's are worth a lot," she tugged the girl's shoulder to make her step forward. The girl became more visible and her eyes more menacing. "I also have my own coin. Do you think I would just let you starve out here in the cold?"

For a moment Myrna wanted to believe they had come here to help, but it was hard to trust people who just came from a group that nearly killed them. Brenda's face seemed genuine enough, but the Stark girl could be a problem whether she supported the Brotherhood or not. She made it loudly known that she wanted The Hound dead. How could Brenda even think this would work? However, they were desperate for money and this was their chance to find food and shelter for the time being. She turned halfway so she could see what The Hound made of this. He was clearly angry, red cheeks under his beard and still ready to charge at Brenda. His glassy brown eyes met with Myrna's when he saw her turn around.

"What do you think?" she asked while gesturing at Brenda and the girl.

He looked back at them and his mouth tightened. "I don't trust them," he rasped. "Not one bit..."

She glanced down at her feet and turned her head back around to face Brenda. "You stay right there. I need a moment alone with Sandor," she ordered. Brenda nodded.

Myrna swiftly walked towards The Hound and grabbed his arm to pull him farther away. He rather easily let her pull him away but he wouldn't take his eyes off of them. When they were far enough away Myrna slid her hand off of him and rose her chin so she could see his face that was still occupied with what Brenda and the girl were doing. In the night air it was not so hard to look at him, with his hair covering some of his burn in a way he did look like a normal man in the dark. "I don't think we have a choice..." she began softly.

"They're working with the Brotherhood! They want to bloody kill me," he hoarsely whispered, taking quick glances between Myrna and them while gritting his teeth. "Our first night sleeping at camp I swear they will try to cut my throat," he added.

Myrna huffed. "This is hard for me, too. I know she's going to want to talk about my past but... Brenda loves me. She wouldn't hurt a friend of mine, I swear that!"

"Aye, and do you swear that little wolf-bitch won't try anything? I killed her fucking butcher's boy," he narrowed his eyes specifically at the girl. Her blue eyes focused back on him from afar.

There was a pause between them. Both knew that the girl would be a problem they would have to deal with. Denying money right in front of them would be stupid, though. "We should accept their offer," Myrna decided.

"It would be different if it were your life on the line," The Hound grumbled but he looked back at them with a rather pensive expression now. "I know our pockets are as empty as our bellies," he admitted.

"Then lets tell them," she softly said as she began walking back to them with The Hound putting his sword back in its sheath reluctantly as he walked next to her.

Brenda's eyes looked relieved when she saw The Hound put his guard down. "Oh, thank the Gods this was all not all for nothing," she sighed.

"You _told_ me you were taking me to my brother!" the Stark girl yelled louder now and managed to get out of Brenda's grip.

"We are, sweet child..." Brenda assured her and then gave her attention to Myrna and The Hound to explain. "Arya's mother and brother will be at The Twins for her uncle's wedding. We can ransom her there but only if we get there quick enough..."

_Her name was Arya_, she remembered now when Sansa mentioned her little sister. Sansa had claimed that she reminded her of her little sister Arya. Only by looking at the young girl Myrna could not really see much in common besides dressing in breeches. This girl looks like she enjoys killing, similar to The Hound but in a smaller way. She could never find joy in killing, and only did when it was necessary. Not to brag about it, but she was more than often good at killing when she needed to. Myrna crossed her arms when she focused back on the situation. "So why did the Brotherhood just let you go with her? They obviously wanted her for the money," she asked Brenda.

Brenda smirked. "They didn't. I snuck us both out. They were heading for Riverrun but there were Lannister men spotted close to their camp. So while they were wasting their time hustling around to get ready to ambush those men I grabbed her for myself and _ran_ for it," she patted Arya on the back but the girl did not react.

"So you really are no longer part of the Brotherhood?" The Hound wanted to hear her say it.

"I'm here to help Myrna now. If I had known you were alive earlier..." she trailed off with a sad tone. "How are you, dear?" she asked kindly.

Myrna bit her lip. "There's time for that later. Do you know of any inn's that might be nearby?"

"Let's head northwest and make for Riverrun, then we'll head north towards The Twins. We should hit an inn rather soon on horseback," Brenda replied.

The Hound marched towards where he had tied up Stranger to a tree and Myrna became concerned. "We only have one horse..." she pointed out.

"You think we came all this way just by walking?" Brenda chuckled and she went back deeper into the woods leaving Myrna alone with Arya.

The girls awkwardly stared at each other in the dark and silence. Myrna scratched her scalp and looked around as she tried to think of something to say. When she looked to see where The Hound went she saw he was just finishing unwrapping the rope that he had tied around the tree to keep Stranger nearby. She wished he would hurry up, or that Brenda would. Being alone with Arya made her slightly uncomfortable.

Arya spoke up. "Why do you like him?" she asked harshly. "He's ugly and all he does is kill people," the girl sounded disgusted.

"_Like_ him?" Myrna asked quickly as she whipped her head back around.

The girl looked like she was studying Myrna. "You're alone with a man day and night, and you defend him to the death while everyone else wants him dead," Arya bickered. "If you're stupid enough to defend him then you're just as bad as him!"

"Now hold on!" Myrna yapped back at her and marched a few steps towards her. "I haven't done anything wrong! And I don't _like_ Sandor!" she declared and saw Arya was looking past her. When she turned around she saw The Hound was making his way towards them but was close enough to hear what Myrna said. The look on his face was nothing she'd ever seen. He tried to hide it with a hard frown but his brown eyes were wounded. Myrna's words had actually wounded the huge man.

Then behind Arya they heard another horse neighing and Brenda came into view mounted on her own horse; it was a beautiful brown and white spotted mare with a long white mane and tail. The smile on Brenda's face faded when she saw the three of them caught in the middle of something. "What's going on?" she asked in a concerned tone.

"I hope your pretty horse can hold three," The Hound spat nastily under his breath as he lead Stranger out of the pine woods and into the clearing so he could get on the road.

"No... Sandor, wait!" Myrna tried to make a recovery but he was not listening to anything that came out of her mouth and Stranger began trotting down the road. She stood there with her arms hanging at her side and she once again gripped her dagger tightly as she spun around and glared at Arya. "Look at what you did!"

Arya shook her head, her greasy brown hair flying in her face. "You're the one who said it!" she squawked.

"Okay, girls. Get on before we lose him," Brenda scolded.

Somehow the three of them had managed to squeeze onto Brenda's horse. They were lucky that Arya was small enough and Myrna wasn't that big either. It was Brenda who took up the most room for being a tall, curvy woman. Arya sat in front of Brenda and Myrna hugged Brenda from behind, careful not to cut her with her dagger in her hand. The mare began trotting across the clearing and made her way onto the road. They saw The Hound far down along the road, but he purposely went slow so he would not be out of view. _He knows he still needs the money..._ Myrna thought. Her heart began to sink the more she thought of what just happened.

"You two are lucky I no longer have my sand steed. Now_ she_ was a beauty, as red as the mountains back at home but to be honest she could barely hold me. We'd be in trouble if she was still alive!" Brenda chuckled and tried to lighten the mood but became quiet again when it was in vain. Behind them the night sky was beginning to turn into hues of violet and orange over the dark tree tops and birds were beginning to sing their songs. They had gone all night without a wink of sleep. Myrna hoped for an inn to come into sight soon. Occasionally she would peek around Brenda to see what was in front of them but all she saw was the back of the man that was ignoring her. Myrna knew she did not really mean what she had said, which only made it worse.

Brenda must have noticed what she was doing and brought it up. "So what exactly happened back there?" she inquired.

Myrna felt her face turn hot when she tried to think of what to say. Arya was able to get her word in first. "Myrna said she didn't like The Hound and he heard her say that. I didn't do _anything_," she defended herself.

"No, you made me say it!" Myrna shouted around Brenda.

"So you _do_ like that disgusting man," Arya hollered back. "Just admit it!"

Brenda groaned. "Okay, enough. I regret asking already," she sighed. The girls quieted down. Myrna stared at the ground that rolled by as they trotted along the road, the side of her head resting on Brenda's back. "Ah, here we go!" Brenda chirped and Myrna quickly peeked around her back again to see The Hound closing in on an inn down the road.

"Do you know that place?" Myrna asked.

"It so happens that I do," Brenda replied happily. "I'll be able to get us a room there. Now listen, you need to make up with your man because Spiceflower here can't hold all of us for the entire trip," she said as she patted her horse.

She sucked in air. "He is not my man!" Myrna blurted out and blushed.

"'A joke. Don't throw a hissy fit now, we made it..." Brenda smoothly replied as Spiceflower trotted down the dirt path towards the inn and stopped next to Stranger. The Hound had already hopped off and was tying Stranger to a post. Myrna watched him as he kept his back turned towards them. Arya leaped off first, landing softly on the ground and took a few steps back. Myrna swung her leg around behind her and stepped off with ease and Brenda did the same. "Normally people arrive at inns at night. Never had to buy a room first thing in the morning," Brenda chimed as she headed towards the inn doors. Myrna, The Hound and Arya followed her quietly. There was an uneasy tension between the three of them. It made Myrna want to shout.

When they entered through the wooden door she noticed the ceiling was quite low. The Hound had to duck his head when walked through the door. A couple of men were breaking their fast at some tables in the corner of the main room. Right when they walked in some stairs led up to the second floor. A man that sat with the others ended his conversation with the others and walked over to them with a smile. Brenda had some silver already in her hand and paid the man.

"The biggest room we have has only three beds. I hope that is fine," the man picked the coin out of her hand and his smile widened.

The Hound found an empty table against the wall and took a seat. "We'll have some bread and ale," he ordered.

"Aye," the man went into the kitchen and the others found a seat around The Hound. Arya sat farthest from him, Brenda across from him and Myrna next to him though she would not look at him and he at her. She put her dagger on her lap and rested her hands on the table politely. They remained quiet all the way until an elderly woman came shuffling out of the kitchen with a basket of bread and mugs for their ale. Right when The Hound's cup was filled he swallowed it all in one impressive swig. The wrinkled, frail woman stared at him disturbed and re-filled his mug right away before shuffling back into the kitchen.

"Thank you," Myrna politely called to her as she went to break off a piece of bread. Arya did the same but Brenda just sat there looking around with her big brown eyes, chin resting on the back of her hand. "Aren't you hungry?" Myrna asked before taking a bite.

"I'm more curious as to how you ended up like this. May I ask?" Brenda requested.

Myrna swallowed her bread and peeked at The Hound who sipped his ale. He acted as if he did not hear anything they said. "Sandor helped me out of the capital. We've been figuring out what to do ever since. That's it," Myrna shrugged and took another bite of bread.

"Did you see my sister there? Her name is Sansa," Arya forced a question out.

"I know who she is. She talked about you once," she saw Arya's blue eyes soften. "Sansa was fine the last time I saw her. I'm not sure what has become of King's Landing though," Myrna said honestly.

Brenda cut in. "King's Landing survived. There's no need to worry about your sister, sweet child..." she smiled.

The Hound finally found some words to say, but they left Myrna even more broken. "I regret not bringing the little bird along. She would have been more polite and a better sight to look at," The Hound sipped more ale.

"Pardon!?" Brenda's voice shrilled.

Myrna locked her eyes on her piece of bread on the table. She began to swallow often to stop herself from coming to tears. All she thought about was her back. Why did she ever show him the bad part of her? He was just another man. Of course he would prefer Sansa over her.

"You're just saying that because you heard Myrna say something mean," Arya blurted.

Brenda joined in with Arya. "You're lucky Myrna's brother isn't around. He'd take your head for saying something so cruel," she mumbled.

_No, not Nicholas... Don't bring him up..._ Myrna clenched her jaw and hoped it would pass over.

"Where was her older brother when Joffrey was playing with her at the capital? Hm?" The Hound asked crudely.

Brenda's mouth tightened. She looked away, not knowing what to say.

The Hound cackled. "It was me who bloody saved her arse. And you know what I get in return?" he looked at her for the first time since they argued.

This was enough. Myrna stood up swiftly, nearly knocking over the chair she was sitting on. She felt all their eyes on her as she ran up the stairs to the second floor of the inn. She hurried past some rooms that were loud and rowdy for a morning. For a second it sounded like a fight, and she paused to listen. It took her a moment to decide it was none of her business and she finally found the room with the three featherbeds the man had reserved for them. She went to the nearest one and sat on the edge facing towards a window, feeling the same way she felt in the pinewoods before The Hound spoke with her. There was a nearby nightstand and she threw her dagger onto it, not caring if it did any damage. The room was brightly lit since the window faced east and it would be difficult to try to take a nap that she clearly needed as the curtains were missing. Outside some children caught her attention. An older boy picked up a smaller girl that looked to be his sister and twirled her around.

Behind her she heard the door open slowly and then click close. In the corner of her eye she saw Brenda walk around the bed and found herself a spot to sit. They both looked out the window and watched the children quietly. "Reminds me of you and Nicholas," Brenda commented.

"He's gone," Myrna replied.

Brenda adjusted herself. "And how do you know that? No one saw him die..."

"Do you even know what happened?" Myrna asked rather harsh.

There was silence for awhile before Brenda's answer. "There was a fire. Your parents died in it. At least that's what the locals told me..."

Myrna narrowed her eyebrows. "What locals? Everyone was killed by The Mountain after the fire broke out," she corrected her.

"I meant... I stopped somewhere on the way back to Beaumont Hall. They told me. Was it Moat Cailin? Or perhaps Barrowton? I can't remember," she chirped quickly while crossing her legs and rubbing her thigh. "You know... you should really apologize to The Hound," she changed the subject and leaned in closer to Myrna.

Rubbing the back of her neck, Myrna sighed and looked down. "I suppose I was the rude one first," she admitted. "Even though I didn't really mean what I said. Arya was just making me so..." she ended up sighing more and stared up at the ceiling.

Brenda moved her hand and touched her back. It sent chills up her spine. Myrna straightened up and looked to Brenda with doe eyes. "I'm sure he did not mean to compare you to that girl he was talking about. Men make dumb mistakes all the time, they have no idea how to treat us women..." she snickered.

"You're probably right..." Myrna looked away again, still bothered by the hand on her back.

"It's not even that bad, Myrna..." Brenda said delicately as her hand brushed her back but the words sent her heart to drop down to the ground.

With a hard grip Myrna threw Brenda's hand off of her and stood up so quick she nearly lost her footing. She stared wildly at Brenda with her heart thumping hard in her chest. "How do you know!?"

Brenda looked like she had frozen. Her eyes stared back with extreme wariness. She was being cautious with her next words. "Know what, sweetling?" she remained calm.

"You know what I'm talking about," Myrna hissed. "Who are you even!?"

She laughed. "I'm _Brenda_, silly. You know, I think you're tired. Why don't you-"

The door opened once more and Arya entered halfway but stopped walking when she saw Myrna standing there devastated. Behind her The Hound stood and he peeked in to see what Arya was looking at. Myrna's knees trembled and she didn't know what to do with her hands. Had she made some sort of misunderstanding? She shifted where she stood, putting her weight back and forth between each leg. Brenda stood up slowly and made her way towards Arya and The Hound, pushing them back. Myrna heard her whisper about letting her sleep and soon the three of them had left her alone. Behind her was the second bed and she plopped herself onto it. Perhaps she was overtired, but she feared her dreams. Just a little nap was all she needed. Myrna closed her eyes and tried to dream of home, but instead all she felt in her dream were familiar strong arms that wrapped around her, and a broad chest pushed against her back. It was something that ended up more comforting than the thought of home, but it also was out of reach.


	7. Chapter 7

Everything was still as she rested on her side with her eyes shut. Myrna was aware that she was dreaming, yet the touch from the person behind her felt incredibly real. What she wanted was to never disturb the comfort she felt at that moment, but nothing so gentle ever lasted for her. Myrna trembled as she felt like she was sinking and the comforting presence soon vanished and was replaced with a malicious one. Smoke and flames suffocated her. A man cried out, but the sound came from every direction and surrounded her. Beads of sweat dripped down her face and she found herself cowering in a corner of a burning room. There was nowhere to run. When she opened her mouth to scream nothing would come out. Her muscles would not listen to her. Myrna was frozen like a trapped animal and she squeezed her eyes shut. _It'll be over..._ she told herself. _It'll be over... _

Then she opened her eyes and she was on her bed that she had fallen asleep on, but... the smoke was still there. Her pillow was damp from her sweat and her vision was impaired by a heavy mist of gray smoke swirling through the room. Screams came from down the hall, but they were different screams from the ones she heard in her dream. The door was blocked by giant orange flames dancing as it entered her room, nearing her inch by inch. That was when she let out a piercing scream herself, finally finding her voice. Myrna flew off the edge of the bed and banged her head against the wooden floor. Crying out, she rubbed her head and attempted to stand up but too much smoke filled her lungs. Myrna hacked and hacked, going back down to the floor and surveyed the room. Her heart pounded and she panicked. This was the last thing she wanted to relive. Trembling, she covered her nose and mouth to try to stop from breathing in more smoke and saw her only way out was the window she looked out of earlier.

She struggled as she crawled to the window with one hand, and when she was underneath it she sat up on her knees and peered out. Panic stricken people were running around. Some were running away and some stayed and cried out at the burning inn. With shaking hands Myrna searched for the lock along the chipped windowframe and found it at the very top of the window which she had to stand for. Coughing, Myrna stood straight up and pulled on the lock. Right afterwards she smacked the wooden frame repeatedly with an open palm.

"Please open!" Myrna cried out, and had to stop trying to open the window so she could kneel back down and catch her breath. Her cough was so hard it felt like her belly was about to go up her throat.

Once again she stood up and now punched the window with a fist and on her third punch the window flew open. Myrna wanted to cry from relief. Smoke flew out the window and into the air outside. She leaned out to see how far the drop was. It was far, and there was a good chance of breaking a bone but she did not care. Myrna knew it would be better than experiencing another burn. She sat down on the edge while swinging her legs over and was about to drop off until she realized she was missing something.

"My dagger..." she realized, patting herself.

She looked back into the room with her nose buried into her arm. It was resting on the nightstand next to the bed she was sleeping on two minutes ago. The bed was now completely engulfed by the flames and was an inch away from the nightstand. Myrna swung her legs back into the room and sprinted towards the nightstand, crying out in desperation. The nightstand caught fire with her dagger on it. When she was in front of it she did not know what to do. She pulled back her hair and looked around to see if there was anything to could push the dagger off the nightstand with but there was nothing. Myrna had no choice.

Myrna pulled her hand into her sleeve and braced herself. Holding her breath, she took her hand that was bundled in her sleeve and quickly picked up the dagger and dropped it on the ground as her sleeve caught fire. Myrna yowled and cried, swinging her arm around to try to extinguish the small flame. She had no choice but to take off her tunic. With one hand she struggled to remove her tunic, but she managed and threw it away from her. Myrna held her hand while sobbing and made herself stomp on the burning sleeve, but she had taken in so much smoke she had another fit and fell to the ground. Her face was wet and her hair was beginning to stick to her face as she grabbed her tunic and her dagger that rested next to her. Inside she felt like she was burning like the flames around her. Her muscles, her lungs, her eyes, they all felt they had been burning too. The flame crept up closer and she forced herself with every fiber of strength left to crawl back to the window.

Once again she threw her legs out and sat on the edge while coughing the entire time. The outside air was pleasantly cool which gave her goosebumps all over her exposed pale skin. It did not even occur to Myrna that anyone who stood below her saw her half nude. When she peered down she felt more anxiety bundle up within her. Myrna let go of her dagger and tunic, watching them fall all the way down to the dirt below. She adjusted herself and slid off the edge inch by inch. If only her hand had not been damaged, then she could have hung from the window and then let go to lessen the damage. Myrna held her breath and closed her eyes then pushed herself off with her heels. Her dark, damp curls flew above her and she felt the impact of the ground quicker than she thought. It felt like something had slapped her whole body at once. _Am I okay? Am I dead?_ Questions ran through her mind as she felt like she was waking up from another dream.

Opening her eyes, she saw a lady slowly make her way towards Myrna, picking up her stained kitchen dress. It was the one who had served them bread and ale earlier. Myrna tried to move, but she could not. She was thankful for landing on her back so at least no one could see the scars she received from her other similar experience. This was no dream, she knew now. The pain was real. Then she realized she was alone and her heart sunk. "Sandor... Brenda... Arya... where...?" she asked between breathes as she somehow managed to pushed herself up with her good hand while grunting. Had she left them behind without realizing? The elderly lady knelt down while sobbing when she finally reached Myrna and gathered her tunic. Myrna felt the tunic go over her head and she allowed the lady to help her dress.

"Oh, thank the Gods someone up there made it..." she wailed and sobbed more.

"_Where_ are the others?" Myrna found more strength to put in her voice. She was breathing heavy and trembling. They were fine, right? They had to be.

The lady shook her head. "Oh, what am I going to do..." she struggled to stand again but her old knees were too weak. She put her face in her hands and her wails became louder.

"I'm... I'm going to go find help," Myrna put a hand on the lady's shoulder and found her feet shakily. When she put weight on her right foot she winced. _Damn... it hurts so bad._ She felt something trickle down her chin so she wiped it off with the back of her wrist and saw blood smeared on her skin. Inside her cheek hurt, and she spat out more blood. After giving herself some time to see how she was after the fall Myrna searched the dirt for her dagger and saw it lying a few feet away. She went to pick it up slowly and grimaced at it when she held it in her good hand. The inscribed tree was in the middle of her reflection. Her eyes were red from the smoke, and her chin matched as blood was smeared all over.

First she had speak with more people to see what really happened. She began walking around the inn at a slow pace to see what was happening in front, and the wails from the old lady were not so loud anymore. Myrna limped as she kept her distance from the burning inn and walked around the corner to see a few more people loitering. None of them were her companions.

Nearby was a stocky man who stood there squinting at the inn. When he noticed her closing in on him he looked at her in awe. "Seven hells! Were ye in there!?" he shouted.

Nodding, she asked a question. "Did anyone else make it out?" she hoped.

"I saw the smoke while coming down the road and went to see what happened. I wasn't ever in there," he eyed her hand. "Do ye need help bandaging that?"

Myrna was becoming frightened. Had they not made it out? Were they still in there? She gave no answer to his question and spaced out. Her dream haunted her again. The blackened, blistered bodies were lying inside her burning manor. Voices cried out in her head, familiar voices she had grown up with. They were people she could have saved if only she had been on time. "I need to go back in there..." she whimpered.

"Ain't no way I'm letting ye back in that fire pit!" the man hollered at her when she started limping towards the flaming front door. He pulled her shoulder but she pulled back harder and escaped his grip. The man came at her again and forced her down, and she kicked and screamed and shouted. The other people who were around stared at her. In her mind she was a strong young woman, but truly she wasn't. Every time she lost someone she became weaker. In such a short amount of time she had depended on The Hound to stay there by her and now suddenly he was gone along with Brenda and Arya. There was no point anymore. Her muscles relaxed and now she lied on the grass sniffling. The man ran his fingers through her curls and told her it would be alright, but it would not.

The man gasped and Myrna heard him being lifted off the ground and thrown away. Before she could even turn to look at what happened arms wrapped around her, a feeling she had recently experienced overwhelmed her for a second, and helped her sit up. Dirty, calloused fingers grabbed her chin tightly to make her look up at his face.

"You're... you're alright..." The Hound's voice rasped. He seemed to be talking more to himself than her.

Myrna felt herself smile weakly. "You're alive," she said back to him.

Sweat dripped off his forehead and he almost seemed afraid to look up. The inn was making a noise that sounded like huge tree branches cracking and soon it Myrna knew it would collapse from the flames eating away at what held it up. Before she knew it she was up in the air in his arms and the heat from the inn drew farther away as he marched towards the road hastily. The man that had been thrown away crawled backwards in fear when he saw The Hound walk past him. She saw The Hound make a threatening glance at the man for a few seconds. _Jealous like a dog_, she looked down at her injured hand and let her hair cover her face so he would not see her small grin.

Arya and Brenda were next to Spiceflower and Stranger. Everyone looked like they had just came back from a trip. Myrna wondered where they went and felt out of place for thinking about them just leaving her alone without a word. Why would they leave her all by herself? Brenda came up to them first, with tears welling in her sad brown eyes. "Oh, look at you..." she reached for Myrna's burned hand and Myrna pulled it away. She remembered what had happened between the two of them in the morning and still felt troubled by it. The Hound put her down gently on her feet, but held onto her shoulder when he saw she could only stand on one foot.

"This is nothing," she said awkwardly, knowing she must look horrible. "Where did you guys go? Why did you just leave me!?" Myrna found herself becoming angry at them.

"Someone took Spiceflower," Brenda informed her while fixing Myrna's hair and taking note of the damage on her clothing and the blood smeared on her face. "I asked The Hound and Arya to come with. But we just found her abandoned down the road and when we started our way back..."

Arya stepped in. "This is no coincidence. Someone wanted Myrna dead," her glassy blue eyes looked at her with no emotion.

"The Brotherhood-" The Hound began to accuse with his grip tightening on her shoulder.

Brenda cut him off. "No. They were going the opposite direction and they had no intention of bothering you again. They want your brother more than anyone else and it's the Lannister party they have their eyes on," she explained.

All of them quieted down as they tried to think of anyone else that could be to blame.

"It may be a coincidence..." Myrna began. "...but on my way to the room this morning I heard a fight going on in a room. Perhaps they knocked over a candle or something?"

The Hound shook his head, sweat still covered his forehead and made his burn glisten red. "Why would there be a candle lit during the day? And her damn horse was let loose on purpose, the rope was cut through..." he rasped. "They know you're traveling with me. Honestly, it's me they want. There is probably coin on my head for telling the king to fuck off," he scoffed.

"You say that as if you're proud people want to kill you," Arya sounded disgusted.

The Hound glared at her. "I never saw you tell the king to fuck off," he barked at her.

"I held a sword to his throat! I never even seen you do anything close to that to Joffrey!" she replied quickly.

He took a couple steps toward Arya in a threatening way leaving Myrna alone but Myrna hopped towards him to stop them from fighting. With her good hand she pushed him back. "Enough," she commanded and turned around to face Arya as well. "Both of you!"

Brenda grabbed Arya, who now sulked, by the shoulder and led her to Spiceflower. "We camp after we find the Red Fork. If there _is_ someone after one of us we need to keep moving and try to lose them," and soon they were mounted and departed from the burning inn.

Myrna grabbed The Hound around his waist with her good hand and held the other slightly above her lap so it would not touch anything. Her hand was not as bad as she thought. Some skin was peeling and blistered, but nothing too deep. It would heal within a few weeks if properly taken care of. However, her foot bothered her if she would allow it to swing while riding on Stranger. When she looked back she saw the smoke was thick and tall, reaching the clouds up in the sky. It was no wonder it attracted a few people who happened to be strolling by. Like anything, though, it grew smaller as they slowly made their way down the dirt road.

Myrna felt she had somehow made up with The Hound. Once again she was mounted on Stranger with him just as they were used to traveling. Still, she found herself trying to find the right words to say to him. When she looked at his face she saw dark circles under his eyes. It had been a long time since he slept, she realized. The Hound noticed.

"A pretty view for you," he commented.

Myrna disregarded that. "You're tired," she told him. Her eyes would occasionally wander off to the scars he wore on his face. It was not something she could help, nor anyone. Though it was a face she saw every day since they left the capital and for her it was becoming _normal_. True, it was not pleasing but she did not shy away from it either. Myrna wondered what he honestly thought about her back when she revealed it to him.

"I'm fine..." he stared down the road above her and with small glances back down at her saw she was still looking up at him. "Does my face fascinate you so much?"

She blinked and looked away. "I didn't realize..." she began mumbling. "I'm sorry," she apologized but it was much deeper than The Hound knew.

"What are you sorry for?" he asked in a mocking tone.

"Everything," Myrna said softly.

He was quiet. Stranger made soft grunting noises as he trotted behind Spiceflower. "You take your apology back and keep quiet. I'm at least half at fault for everything that has happened. I never should have left you alone at that inn. That was my damn, bloody fault and now you're wounded 'cause of it..." his usual gruff voice became slightly softer. Myrna began to understand that when he didn't want other people to hear something he told Myrna he would change his voice to that rough whisper.

"It's nothing new," she remarked as she peered down at the burned flesh on her hand.

The Hound also looked at her hand. "It could have been worse. Be glad that's all that happened..." he let go of one of the reins and reached behind his back to retrieve a sack he kept near him. Myrna watched as he searched in there to find something, and saw him pull out a handkerchief. He began wiping away the blood on her face and she blinked with surprise but did not move. The look in his eyes made her feel uneasy, as if he were experiencing nostalgia and she was not really there in front of him but perhaps someone else. Despite that, Myrna felt her stomach flutter.

"Thank you..." she politely said as he put away the handkerchief silently. "I... didn't mean what I said earlier," Myrna couldn't help but blurt out. The Hound nodded solemnly, and that was that.

Secretly she hoped that he would apologize for what he said back at the inn but he never did. The Hound was a brutally honest man, and Sansa _was_ prettier than Myrna with her perfect fair skin and wavy red hair and brilliant green eyes that allured anyone speaking with her. It hurt, but she accepted that. Perhaps she was overthinking everything. Maybe it was just some offhand words from built up anger and he does not even remember saying anything.

The outskirts of Riverrun greeted them. The first village they saw was about a mile away. Soon they would run into the Red Fork, and finally the four of them could find a spot to rest. "Do you think Riverrun has a maester that can see me?" Myrna asked The Hound.

"Someone ought to have something for your hand," he replied.

Spiceflower slowed down and Myrna came face to face with Brenda and Arya, though she was slightly higher up than them. "I'm going to have to leave Arya with you two for now. I can get some ointment for your hand and some more supplies. Once you reach the water make camp, I'll find you..." Brenda hollered as she made Spiceflower come to a stop and The Hound pulled hard on Stranger's rein's to make him stop as well.

"Why can't we come with?" Myrna asked as she watched Arya jump off Spiceflower and pout as she made her way towards Stranger.

Brenda kicked Spiceflower on the side and she smiled at them. "I have a friend in these parts but he's shy. You want to watch me work?" she chuckled as she kicked Spiceflower again and flew down the dirt road and made her way towards the village.

"She's strange," Arya commented as she stood there watching Brenda grow smaller.

The Hound sighed heavily. "Come on, we don't have all day," he grunted as he leaned over to reach down at the young girl, the leather on his armor scrunching. Arya wrinkled her nose but she grabbed onto his hand despite the hatred she had for the man. The Hound threw Arya onto Myrna's lap unexpectedly, making her yelp from her pained knee, and Myrna wrapped the arm with her good hand around the girl's waist. Before Stranger began trotting again The Hound was hugging Myrna more tightly now that she could not hang on to him. She could feel herself blushing and hoped the girl wouldn't turn around to face her anytime soon.

They passed up the village that Brenda entered moments ago and kept moving northwest. Myrna strained her eyes and kept her eyes peeled for any water ahead. They all needed rest, and now with Arya on her lap she was becoming irritated. Stranger moved slower now, so they would not reach the Red Fork as soon as they would have earlier. Myrna felt bad for the horse despite its ill nature.

"Is there anyone who hates you, Myrna?" Arya asked suddenly.

Myrna opened her mouth to answer but she had none. "Well... why do you ask?"

"Someone wanted you to burn in there. They purposely lead us away and set that inn on fire with you inside. Are you sure there is no one after you?" the young girl elaborated.

"Most people I know are dead," Myrna explained.

Arya was quiet for only a minute before continuing. "The Mountain is mad at your brother, or at least that's what Beric said. Maybe it's him?"

The Hound cackled bitterly. "My brother would rather kill all of us than just one. He would not have bothered to draw us away from Myrna. Besides, he would have done the killing himself instead of letting some house fire do it..."

A sudden realization made Myrna hold her breath. Perhaps there was someone after her, but she could not find it in herself to believe it. Over the years she had assumed him dead. The last time she had seen him was when The Mountain had knighted him and helped ruin their lives. If he were somehow alive... why would he show up now after all these years? Why did he try to kill her back there?

"We need to be careful from now on," Myrna said sternly.

Arya watched Myrna with curious eyes. "Did you think of something?"

Myrna swallowed. "I'm not the only one with an angry brother..."


	8. Chapter 8

The Red Fork rumbled loudly as the water rushed with great speed along the banks. Their camp was small but it was comfortable. They had managed to catch a rabbit for the three of them to share, but Myrna could not help but stop eating to look down the road that led them to this spot next to the Red Fork. It was difficult to see in the night, but that did not stop her from checking. Brenda was taking a long time and she wondered if she would take all night to get back. They were stuck here until Brenda returned with what she needed to heal her hand. When they first arrived Myrna crouched down next to the Red Fork and washed her hand off as gently as she could, but that was all she could do. Myrna needed ointments, bandages... the pain was slowly increasing. The exposed flesh was beginning to ooze and her hand looked slightly swollen. Thinking about the possibility of an infection in her hand bothered her and that led her to looking at the road constantly. The Hound must have noticed her anxiety.

"Relax," he gave a brief reassurance to her but the tone in his voice was anything but comforting.

Myrna waved her ugly hand at him. "This is going to kill me if it's not taken care of!" she exaggerated.

"You've been through worse," The Hound gave her a stare that felt like it went through her. Myrna nearly shuddered but instead just stared back down at her hand. She was done with her rabbit and put it down next to her. Looking at her hand made her lose her appetite.

She would have thanked The Hound for being subtle as she did not want anyone else to know. When she looked at Arya she saw she was laying on her side, head resting on her arm and just stared at the small fire she built for them. It seemed she heard nothing around her. Myrna wondered if she needed someone to talk to.

"Get some sleep. I'll have first watch," The Hound told Myrna.

She shook her head. "Brenda should be here soon and I had a nap earlier," she thought about her rude awakening from that nap. "You get some rest. I'll wake you when she arrives," she offered and The Hound silently agreed. He rested himself down on his back, resting his hands on his belly. _He never takes off that armor_, she thought as she watched him for a moment. Immediately she heard his snoring which was not surprising from how long he had been awake.

"You're giving him that look again," Arya softly spoke up when she knew The Hound fell asleep.

While ignoring the comment, Myrna thought of something to change the subject. "How did you end up like this?" she asked the young girl.

Arya sat up and had a far off look in her eyes. "After Joffrey killed my father a man from the Night's Watch took me away from King's Landing. Tried to save me... until some Lannister men killed him and sent me off to Harrenhal..."

"Harrenhal? Isn't that place haunted?" Myrna felt goosebumps on her arms.

The girl looked slightly baffled at that comment. "It's old and dirty. That's about it," she quieted down and gave a foul look at the sleeping Hound. "His brother almost killed my friend at Harrenhal..."

Myrna blinked. Had this girl really ran into The Mountain? She double checked to make sure The Hound was asleep. Any talk of his brother would rile him up and she did not want to make him angry at her again. "How do you know The Mountain?" she asked in a low voice.

"He and his men tortured people there. I saw a lot of people die because of The Mountain. Isn't that something we have in common?" Arya was beginning to become smart with her mouth. The girl raised an eyebrow at Myrna and seemed to enjoy surprising her.

"Beric doesn't know _anything_," Myrna sneered as she went to look again down the road, but now she felt a sudden sadness rush over her.

Arya spoke up again after a moment. She was curious. "So what he said wasn't the truth?"

"About my town being burned to dust and my parents perishing in it? Yes. Yes, that's true. But he doesn't know how it happened. He wasn't there. _I_ was there. _I_ saw my parents burn to death and _I _was the one who..." Myrna began breathing heavy and her voice was croaking. She stopped herself before she said it aloud. The tightness in her back reminded her every time she moved of what happened inside her burning manor. When she looked at Arya she saw pity in the girl's blue eyes.

They remained quiet for awhile and watched the fire slowly become dimmer. Crickets sang around them and Arya's eyes were becoming heavy. A noise from down the road caught the attention from both Myrna and Arya and the girl looked awake again. Myrna exhaled, finding relief that Brenda was finally making her way back. Her hand was desperate for treatment. With her good hand she pushed herself up and when she stood straight she stretched but was careful with her injured ankle. "I told Sandor I would wake him up when she arrived," Myrna said aloud, mostly to herself, but Arya also stood up and seemed wary.

"That's not just one horse..." she pointed down the dark road.

When Myrna looked back again she saw Arya was right. Behind the one horse Myrna saw in the distance there was more. A lot more. Panic struck through her and she ordered Arya to put the fire out and grab as much as she could. Myrna limped towards the sleeping Hound and shook the large man's shoulders. He was incredibly heavy and it took every muscle in her to shake him. "Sandor! We have to hide! People are coming!" she harshly whispered. Then he finally blinked his eyes open.

"What do you want, woman?" he groggily asked and let out a loud yawn.

Myrna grabbed his arm and tried to pull him up but he pulled back harder and it led Myrna to fall onto his lap. What she felt made her face turn pink. She slapped his face and squealed as she rolled off. Myrna landed funny on her ankle and sat there holding it, biting her lip.

The Hound rubbed the cheek she slapped and he clenched his teeth. "Don't you know about men when they wake up!?" he muttered as he stood up to fix himself.

She managed to look back at him with her cheeks still flushed. "There are people coming!" she told him again, and attempted to stand up but couldn't. Myrna cursed.

Once he recognized the sound of hooves thundering towards them he gave her a concerned look. Quickly he went to pick her up with one arm and they made their way to Stranger. Arya was already by the horse, hands full of what little they had on them. Sandor roughly grabbed everything from the girl's hands and threw them on Stranger's saddle but instead of mounting he grabbed the reins and lead Stranger behind some trees along the bank of the river. Immediately after The Hound placed Myrna behind a shrub and then he pushed his back against the biggest tree he could find. Arya joined Myrna and crouched behind some shrubs.

Numerous thuds became louder as the horses galloped closer. Soon they were able to hear voices. Myrna peeked around the shrub to see if she could recognize any faces, but nearly all the men were wearing helms plus the night clouded them in a dark blanket. "That last village didn't have much," one loudly complained.

Myrna felt her stomach drop. Did they raid the village Brenda stopped at? She looked towards The Hound and saw him already looking at her with perplexed eyes. He was thinking the same thing, too. Arya looked like she was about to say something but Myrna put her good index finger up to her mouth to signal to remain quiet. They can't say anything for sure yet.

"We're not doing this for treasures!" the one leading them snapped back as he came to a halt near them. The rest stopped. Myrna and Arya were as still as calm water. She saw The Hound holding his breath. There was no way they could take on all those knights. Why did they stop, though? Did they know they were hiding by the river? Was Brenda caught and did she tell them where they planned to meet up? The man in front of the party turned his horse around to face the man. "There is a man threatening Ser Gregor Clegane. We need to catch this man or it will be _us _that will be flayed. Now are you sorry son's of whores absolutely sure you saw no man that matched the description in the past few villages!?"

Silence was the answer.

"A bloody Northerner we're looking for! It should not be this difficult. His name is Nicholas Beaumont!" he sharply broke the silence. Myrna felt the hairs on her arm stand straight up. "Fair skin, black of hair, and he wears the sigil of an oak tree. It was you, Willem, who claimed to have seen him in these parts, no?"

A nervous knight who was closest to the head of the party nodded. "Yes, ser..."

"Did you lie?" the man asked another question.

"N-No, ser. Never, ser," Willem the knight replied back like a small boy.

"'Cause it won't be me you'll have to speak with if you go back to Harrenhal empty-handed. It will be The Mountain!" he threatened and he turned his horse back around.

Willem sounded like he was going to cry. "Yes, ser. Of c-course, ser!" he shouted back in reply and all the horses began galloping down the road once more towards their next destination. Another poor village was to be ruined because of these men.

Once they were completely out of sight the three of them crawled out of their hiding places. The Hound kept his hand on the hilt of his sword as he crept closer to the road to see if everything was truly clear. Meanwhile Myrna stared at the ground and squeezed the hilt of her dagger. What does this mean? What should she do? She heard The Hound return to them and saw Arya's face appear in front of her.

"Your brother..." Arya looked up at her.

The Hound kept his mouth shut and just stared at Myrna with a hard look. The way he pressed his lips together made it seem he wanted to say something but held it back. The Mountain was mentioned as well, Myrna remembered. It appeared that he truly was hunting Nicholas still.

"Maybe we should visit Harrenhal..." Myrna threw an idea at them which led to Arya's face twisting into an angry expression. "_After_ The Twins..." she added, now crossing her arms.

After a short moment The Hound softly shook his head. "There's nothing we could do about my brother when he has all those bloody men around him," he rasped but he sounded slightly disappointed. "Besides, there are plenty of miles between my brother and yours. I wouldn't worry about your precious brother," he mocked and turned around to look at the road again. That led to her biting her lower lip.

"Don't call him that," Myrna snapped and watched The Hound whip his head back towards her direction. "I want him dead just as I want your brother dead! And I'll kill them _myself_," she snarled. He gaped at her, looking her up and down as if she did not seem real to him. Myrna wanted to shout more at him, but could not find the words. All the shapes that she would see in her dark dreams were dancing in her mind in that moment, as they always did whenever Nicholas and The Mountain were mentioned.

"Why?" Arya asked in a surprisingly mild tone.

Before Myrna could respond she saw something in the corner of her eye. From the same direction the party of knights came another traveler was slowly making their way towards them. The brown and white spotted horse proved it truly was Brenda this time, and she had survived. Myrna began limping towards the road to welcome Brenda, and to ignore Arya's question at the same time. Brenda picked up speed and in no time had finally arrived.

"I'm not done talking to you!" Arya had followed Myrna closely and tugged on Myrna's tunic as Brenda jumped off Spiceflower with a grin on her face. The smile faded when Arya yelled, "Why do you want to kill your brother!?"

In her hand Brenda held a sack that Myrna assumed held the medicine she needed for her burned hand that she had nearly forgotten about ever since the knights disrupted them. It fell to the ground with a thud and Brenda grabbed Myrna's shoulders. Myrna shuddered. "You're not talking about Nicholas, are you?" Brenda asked harshly but Myrna could tell there was hurt in her big brown eyes. "What's going on?" she looked to Arya but still had a hard grip on Myrna. The Hound moved quick for his size and pushed Brenda off of Myrna roughly. The Dornish woman fell on her rear with a cry and cursed at him. "Fucking hells! What is with you people!?" she screamed.

"I don't know what the hell is going on, either..." The Hound growled as he put himself between Brenda and her. "But I know enough that you have no right to touch her or yell at her for wanting your _lover_ dead. Seven hells, he was knighted by my brother for crying out loud!" he warned her.

Brenda began breathing heavier and now spoke to Myrna. "Explain yourself, _sweetling_... Why on earth do you want Nicholas dead?" her voice shook.

All their eyes were on her now, including The Hound's as he turned around to face her. She felt like she was cornered despite being in the open area. "My parents are dead because of him..." Myrna looked off to the side.

"Because of _The Mountain_," Brenda thought she was correcting her and it made Myrna furious.

"Oh, I'm sorry! Were you there too!? Did you hear the way my mother screamed, or see the way Nicholas just stared at my parents as they turned to ash!?" Myrna hollered down at her. _But he was also crying..._ she remembered but left that part out. "It's just as I said. _My brother_. Everyone blamed The Mountain for everything but it was Nicholas who started it! The only reason I want to go to Harrenhal is so I can stop The Mountain from taking away my vengeance! I don't know why he's after Nicholas and me, but I can't let him have my brother..." she went on and saw Brenda's lip quiver. Brenda remained sitting on the dirt road and began to whimper as she put her hand up to her chest. There was no way Myrna could stand to stay around and listen to Brenda wail over the truth about Nicholas. Turning around, she marched back towards the bank of the Red Fork despite the terrible pain in her ankle every time she placed it down. Myrna heard someone follow her. The sound of armor plates clamoring let Myrna know it was The Hound without having to look behind her. A tight grip on her shoulder stopped her from walking and when she looked up she saw slick red flesh but averted her eyes. She stared at his chest plate instead. "Your brother is innocent for once. You happy?" she muttered under her breath. His grip tightened on her shoulder and it made her wince.

"That was uncalled for," he spat back. Myrna felt drops of saliva hit her face. He was so close to her face she could feel warm puffs of air from his mouth.

Now she looked up to meet his gaze. "Sorry," she flatly apologized.

He shook his head. "I could care less about my brother's fucking innocence, not that he has any. I'm talking about what you did there with the whore," he rasped. "We have no fucking coin and that whore wailing on the road is all we got! Now she's probably going to fucking leave 'cause of you," he looked off to the side and inhaled sharply.

"Is that all you care about? Money?" Myrna's voice shook angrily. "Or didn't you get a chance to fuck her yet?" she grabbed his hand and threw it off of her then pushed his chest hard. He stumbled back a few steps and gawked at her.

"Since when do you care who I fuck!?" he hollered back with a wild look in his eye.

Myrna saw Arya standing behind him and she watched them awkwardly. "'Cause she likes you," Arya said with a shrug. Myrna felt her face turn hot and The Hound stared at the girl confused but she changed the subject quickly. "In case you forgot, we have my uncle's wedding to attend. Make Brenda stop crying," she ordered them and turned around to go back to her. Myrna kept her head down and followed Arya closely to avoid The Hound. She hoped her hair hid her blush and now was faced with another challenge. Brenda's eyes were red and she still sat on the ground sobbing. When she noticed Myrna making her way towards her she saw Brenda pick up the sack she had brought with her and threw it in front of Myrna's feet.

"There. That's what you want, right? Now leave me!" she commanded between tears.

Myrna walked around the bag slowly and towered over Brenda. The Dornish woman dried off her brown cheeks and peered up at Myrna with angry eyes. "I'm not going to apologize," Myrna began. "Nicholas fucked up my whole life whether you want to believe it or not. Maybe one day you can get your answers from him..." Myrna went down on her knees and grabbed Brenda's calloused, tanned hand with her injured one, ignoring the pain. "_We_ can get answers from him," Myrna rephrased herself. Brenda's sobs slowed down to sniffles as she glanced down at their hands. For a second Myrna thought her attempt was all in vain, but Brenda lifted her chin and softly looked at Myrna's face. Brenda nodded without saying anything, and they both stood up.

Brenda wiped her face with her forearm and sighed as she pointed at Myrna's hand. "Let's finally fix that up, shall we?" she tried to sound like her cheerful self but it came out apathetic.

That last the last time Myrna heard Brenda speak that evening. They sat facing each other on the grass near the dead fire Arya had built earlier. The Hound and Arya were unpacking what little they had and Stranger was tied to a closer tree. The way Brenda cleaned out her burned hand reminded her of when her friend Desmond treated her back all those years ago. This was much smaller but yet the pain was no less. Myrna was relieved when it was nearly over and Brenda gently wrapped her hand in pieces of cloth. She examined her hand when it was done and Brenda began wrapping her ankle that she injured from the jump. Afterwards when Brenda was finished with her ankle she silently went to sit by herself away from them. Myrna's dagger was placed next to her and she looked at it and then at The Hound. She decided it was for the best.

Myrna held her dagger in her good hand and approached The Hound. The pain was greatly alleviated in her ankle thanks to it being wrapped up now. She quietly sat next to him and he glued his eyes to her. "May I ask a favor?" Myrna kept her head down.

"You can't even look at me," he grumbled deeply.

Sighing, she lifted her chin and hoped not to blush. Why was she suddenly so bashful around him? "Take care of this," she handed him her dagger and he grabbed it from her eagerly. He ran his finger down the flat of the blade and examined it closely. _It's like a new toy for him_, Myrna smiled as she watched him. "I obviously can't use it for awhile," she showed off her hand and he slightly smirked back at her.

His small smile faded and his eyes wandered around the small camp. "Is there truth to what the she-wolf said earlier?" The Hound flatly asked Myrna.

Myrna blushed just as she did when Arya embarrassed her earlier. "If... if we don't hurry we'll miss the wedding, yes..." Myrna stuttered and looked down to her lap letting her dark curls hide her face.

"Not that," he rasped as he moved in closer to her. "You fancy me? I could use a woman..." she felt his breath on her neck. His hand grabbed her chin and he forced her to look at him and their noses nearly touched. Myrna resisted but stared at his mouth. She shook and her cheeks were warm. Then The Hound made a sound what sounded like a deep sigh and his grip loosened. "You're just like the little bird after all. Bloody shame," he murmured and took back his hand and moved away from her. Myrna wanted to say she wasn't like Sansa but she remained quiet. The Hound went back to looking at her blade while brooding. She wanted to comfort him somehow but felt stuck.

Arya neared them. "I'm going to find some more fire wood," she told them.

Myrna took one more glance at The Hound and stood up. "I'll come with. It's dark out," she put a hand on Arya's back and they walked out of the camp and into a deeper part of the forest but stayed near the Red Fork. Arya began picking up the biggest twigs she saw lying on the grass and had a small bundle in her arms in a matter of minutes. Myrna stood there awkwardly and still examined her hand. She wondered if she would ever get used to it.

"How much longer 'til were at the Twins?" Arya asked as she bent over to swipe up another decent twig.

Myrna shrugged. "I don't really know. A few days perhaps," She watched Arya frown at that. Maybe somehow she could cheer the girl up. "How are you, Arya?" Myrna asked.

"What do you mean?" Arya narrowed her eyes at Myrna.

She took a few steps closer to the girl and made herself smile. "It's been rough lately. Just wondering how you're holding up..."

"I just want Brenda to keep leading us to the Twins. It's stupid the way she cried over your brother. She hasn't seen him in years," she calmly replied while adjusting the bundle of twigs in her arms. Arya looked up at Myrna and was about to keep talking but her eyes caught onto something behind Myrna. The twigs fell to the ground.

Myrna knew by the look on the girls face it wasn't good. Slowly she turned around and froze. _No..._ she thought. _There is no way._

"You're... You're supposed to be in Harrenhal," Myrna backed up slowly.

Gregor Clegane eyed her up as he stood within the shadows. A sickly smile appeared on his face. "My bride. My search ended up sweeter than I thought it would," his voice boomed, deeper than The Hound's.

"Arya, run!" Myrna commanded sharply as she whipped her head back to face the girl. Arya shook her head and grabbed Myrna's arm.

"_Come with me!_" she whispered with her blue eyes filled with worry.

Myrna brushed her off and pushed her away. "NOW!" she ordered again, louder this time. This time Arya listened and Myrna watched the girl disappear into the darkness between the pine trees and heard Gregor rumble a short laugh. Myrna faced him once more and her heart pounded inside her chest as he crept closer. It did not help when she remembered that she gave her dagger to The Hound before leaving with Arya. "Just you wait. Sandor will be here and he'll kill you!" Myrna tried to be brave but only kept taking a step back every time The Mountain took a step towards her. _There's no way I can outrun him_, Myrna thought. Her ankle felt better but it was still injured. The Mountain picked up his pace while Myrna did not. She was helpless. Soon he stood over her and she had to stretch her neck to see his face. Myrna remembered the way he stood tall over her when she was young, when he had chained up Nicholas to take him away. The bravery she had when she was young was not with her at that moment. What she did _not_ remember was the pain of his fist making impact with her skull.


	9. Chapter 9

A throbbing ache in her head dulled all her senses. It were as if she had been non-existent for a moment. She tried to re-call anything, even her own name. Nothing. Everything around her was absolutely nothing. When she tried to move her body it would not respond. Was this death? What had killed her? If she were dead, could she see her parents?

_Mom. Dad. The fire..._ The first memory finally came back to her. Her pain worsened but now she felt she was linked back to reality. This was not death. Perhaps she was asleep. _What is my name?_ With the pain came back her mobility. Now her fingers could move, and her leg rubbed against what she was lying on. It was soft and cool. Her body sunk into it and it felt somewhat familiar. A soft sigh escaped her dry lips. She tried to say a name, but did not know what name to call out for. The lady wanted someone next to her. How did she end up alone like this?

She wanted to call out and see if anyone was there near her, but she could not create words yet. Only sighs came out of her mouth, and small grunts from the pain. _Why does this hurt so much?_ When she made a fist something crunched in her hand. Her fingers played with it. It felt like there was a piece of paper in her hand, but she still had no vision to see what it exactly was. If only she could figure out who she was, then maybe...

"Myrna?" a gentle voice called out to her.

Her eyes blinked open. A red canopy was the first thing she saw as she laid on her back on a bed way too large for her. Her eyes wandered off to the side and her head turned slightly. Glassy green eyes met hers. Soon Myrna broke the gaze and saw this young lady was a familiar friend. "Sansa?" Myrna hoarsely said and began coughing. When was the last time she had a drink of water?

Sansa did not smile for Myrna. Quickly she stood up from the chair she had been seated on beside her bed. "I must tell the Queen you're awake," she coldly informed Myrna. "Be sure to get rid of that before someone else walks in," she hinted and her auburn curls flew in the air behind her when she turned to exit out of the room.

"No, wait!" Myrna pushed herself up shakily as Sansa closed the door behind her. When Myrna moved she felt the thing in her palm again. Inside her hand was a piece of paper scrunched into a ball. Myrna opened it clumsily as her bandages were in the way and saw it was a letter. "Is this what Sansa is talking about?" Myrna said to herself before reading aloud. "_Every day at dusk a mockingbird will walk past your chamber. If you find yourself alone, the mockingbird will help you recover what you lost... but at a price._'"

After re-reading those few sentences over what seemed like a hundred times, Myrna put the letter down on her lap and inhaled a deep breath. Everything was slowly coming together. This was the capital. When she glanced around she saw that this was the same room they had kept her in before. Underneath her was a thick red quilt blanket and in the corner was the same chamber pot and vanity. The last memory she could recall was a giant fist closing in on her head. "Gregor..." Myrna hissed quietly. Gregor Clegane had dragged her all the way back to this hell hole. Now... she really _will_ marry him. Panic struck her like lightning. What happened to her friends? "Sandor..." Myrna now called out another Clegane name but this time it was more of a cry. She put her injured hand up to her chest and her breathing turned ragged. With her other hand she re-crunched the letter and swung her legs off the bed.

It was then when she noticed they had dressed her in a gown and took away her traveling clothing. The dress she wore was a rose red with black on the sides of the skirt of her dress, and the sleeves ended before her elbow. Around her waist was a black corset with a pattern of golden and rusty brown flowers and leaves. The corset had pinched her all the while she slept, which led her to feel numbness and then pain soon after. Myrna wobbled to the nearest lit candle after she managed to stand up on her feet while cursing whoever dressed her. She shakily held the letter over the small flame as she tried to calm herself down by focusing on her breathing. The letter crinkled and turned black as the orange flames engulfed it, and ashes began to fall on the ground. Somehow she took satisfaction from watching the letter burn away.

A loud knock at the door made her jump, and the letter had been taken care of just in time. When the door open she saw Queen Cersei make an elegant entrance with a sly smile tightening her face. Myrna stood there diligently with her hand still pressed against her chest. She waited for the Queen to speak and was very aware of every move she made. Almost too carefully, Cersei found a spot to sit on where Myrna had just been laying. The smile melted off her wicked face. Her eyes were almost the same green as Sansa had, but Cersei's were nowhere near as innocent. They were eyes that could kill if given the slight chance.

"A proper noble lady would show how... _grateful_ she is to be in the presence of a queen who has given her hospitality," Cersei attentively spoke as she examined every inch of Myrna. "Especially after all the trouble you have put us through..."

"I didn't _want_ to be brought back here," Myrna fumed. "You will let me go. This is not my place!"

Cersei tilted her head and her green eyes pierced through Myrna. "You are giving me commands now? Ha!" she chuckled. "If you fancied The Hound I don't see why you would be upset by marrying his brother instead. I see little difference between the two Clegane brothers..."

"Where is he?" Myrna quickly investigated.

Cersei's infamous smug smile appeared on her lips. Without responding, she slowly stood up and gracefully approached Myrna. She almost gently fixed her dark curls and leaned in to whisper in her ear. "My son does not know you are back home yet. If you want me to make this easier on you... do not ever speak of The Hound again... _Forget_ him..." she softly threatened and swiftly pulled away. Myrna gaped at the queen as she watched her exit out of her room as quickly as Sansa had. After the door was closed Myrna felt a rage grow inside her.

Something inside her made her want to run after Cersei and unleash all her anger on the woman. Myrna wanted to grab her long, golden locks and yank it out of her skull. She wanted to sink her nails into her flesh and skin her with her bare hands. Then she would pummel her with her bare fists, she did not care that one of her hands would feel excruciating pain. After not being able to hold back anymore, Myrna ran to her door but when she tried to turn the knob it wouldn't budge. They were keeping her locked in her chamber.

Myrna let out a scream as she punched the wooden door with her good hand. Then she went at it with both hands, screaming nonsense. When Myrna tired herself out, she held her injured hand and slowly sat on the ground resting against the door with her skirt bunching up around her. Her hand felt like it was stinging everywhere and she had some regret despite feeling better on the inside. When she looked closer at her hand she noticed the bandages were different. Whoever handled her while she was unconscious must have changed her bandages. Then she picked up her skirt so her ankle would be visible and saw her ankle was wrapped in a more quality fabric then she had before. Myrna barely noticed any pain when she ran to the door. This was the only upside she saw for being brought back here. Everything else fell apart.

The day was almost gone and Myrna was still trapped inside that chamber. She laid in front of the door, not finding any motivation to move from where she had her outburst. Nothing seemed to be worth doing anymore. Myrna stared blankly at the window that was on the other side of her bed. The window was her only source of time, and she saw the skies outside begin to turn dusky. Her room slowly darkened with every passing hour. The light from the candles near the doorway began to stretch farther into the room and when the sunset hues from the outside turned dark the candles were her only source of light. Everything was so calm and quiet.

From above her she heard a jingle, the first real noise she had heard in hours. When Myrna groaned and stretched to see what it was, she saw it was the doorknob moving. Someone was unlocking her door. Before Myrna could move the door tried to open but she blocked the way. "Hold on!" Myrna rasped and had a coughing fit as she crawled away from the door and to the edge of her bed. Myrna rested her head and arms on the edge of the bed, still sitting on the ground. She did not even care to see who now entered her room. The footsteps boomed inside and she knew it had to be a large man. Some hope filled her, and she allowed herself to turn and see who it was. Myrna felt sick to her stomach.

Gregor stood incredibly tall since she was sitting on the ground. His cold, brown eyes stared down at her. Myrna noticed that he held something in his hand, and the scent of cooked meat and vegetables filled her room. Her stomach turned even more and gurgled. After breaking off the gaze, he turned and put the bowl down roughly on her nightstand. He stared at the bowl for awhile. She wondered what he was doing and why he was in there with her. Myrna wanted to yell at him, but she had no energy.

"Are you going to eat?" he boomed at her from afar.

Myrna looked at the bowl and then at him. "Why are you here?" she softly asked him.

Gregor shifted his weight between his feet. Then he rubbed his face as if he had an ache in his head. The awkwardness was terrible between them. Then a sudden fear overcame Myrna. What if he became angry with her? There was no way to protect herself. She wished she had never given Sandor her dagger. This could have turned out so much different if she only could have protected herself from this man earlier. Now, she had to do what she needed to do in order to survive.

"If you are not going to eat this... I'll smash the damn thing into your face," he snarled at her.

"There's no need," Myrna quickly snapped back. She found her feet with the help of her bed and shuffled towards the nightstand, looking down at the ground as she passed Gregor. Just being near him made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. When she picked up the bowl her hands immediately warmed up. Steam rose from the broth and hit her face. It was comforting. Myrna took a few steps back and sat on the edge of her bed, staring at the food longingly. She picked up the spoon with her good hand after setting the bowl on her lap and began sipping the broth. Myrna did not even notice Gregor staring at her until she had filled her belly on the soup.

He made his way to the other side of her bed and sat down roughly onto it, making her end rise up. "Is there anything else you need?" he asked her with the attempt to sound kind but it came out sounding anything but kind.

_You can let me leave and stop pursuing me_, she thought bitterly but decided now was not the best time to be smart with this man. Myrna remembered the letter she burned and realized she missed her first opportunity to speak with this person calling themselves a mockingbird. "I would be happier if I wasn't locked up in this small room," Myrna genuinely told him.

"You left here with my brother and you expect me to trust you not to leave me again!?" Gregor growled at her.

Myrna had to quickly think of something. "I didn't do it willingly," Myrna lied. Then another idea popped into her head. "Sandor took me by force. You have to believe me. If he isn't here then you have nothing to worry about.." she lied more but the look on Gregor's face didn't change.

The man stood up without saying a word and made his way to her door. Before he stepped out he stopped and stared at the floor for a minute and looked over his shoulder. "If that's the truth... I will need to keep your door locked," he bellowed before stepping out and locking the door behind him.

Myrna stared at the door. "Sandor... You are here, aren't you?" she sighed to herself.

...

When morning came there was a loud knock on her door. She awoke after a rough night with hardly any sleep. The doorknob moved as it was being unlocked and when it opened two knights wearing helms entered. Myrna sat up on her bed concerned. "What's going on?" she demanded.

"We are taking you to the king. It will be decided what will be done with you," one replied, his voice bouncing off his helm.

Myrna threw her covers off and stood up. The two knights went to either side of her and grabbed her arms. For the first time she was allowed outside her chamber and they began walking down a long corridor. Morning sun poured in through the large barred windows and there was also a slight breeze. The air outside her chamber was fresh and cooler. Even though she was relieved to be let out, she felt a sickness in her stomach. Joffrey was the last person she wanted to see. What was he going to do with her? They walked through another door which led to the main corridor to where the entrance of the Throne Room was. Every time they passed someone they would stare at her without a word. Some would even stop so they could look at her longer. Word must have gone around about her. Myrna wondered how bad the rumors were. After what felt like forever they finally arrived to the Throne Room doors.

Her stomach twisted into a tight knot when the doors to the Throne Room slowly creaked open. Old emotions returned to her from when she was kept here before. Myrna focused on breathing to try to make the nausea go away. When the large doors were open wide enough she grew concerned. For some reason she had believed she would be the only one in there to present herself to Joffrey, but there was a crowd of people. The two knights at each side of her pushed her in and helped her break through the crowd. The crowd turned and stared at her as if she were some criminal. Ladies covered their mouths as they whispered to the person next to them. Some men snickered and she heard one say "it's the Hound's bitch". The unwanted attention made Myrna glue her eyes to the stoned floor. All she wanted was to hide away from all their gazes. Once they were in front of the crowd the knights halted her to a stop and when she heard a voice yell out in front of her she looked up so quick she nearly hurt her neck.

"I meant what I said," the giant man growled as he stood in chains before King Joffrey. "_Fuck_ the king!" he spat towards the throne.

Myrna took a step towards him the second her eyes locked onto his back but was roughly pulled back by one of the knights. "Sandor! I'm right here!" she cried out to him.

The Hound stumbled backwards and looked over his shoulder, chains clanking against each other. His lip moved softly as he tried to find something to say, but Joffrey broke in before they could exchange anymore words.

"So the rumors were true?" Joffrey loudly spoke. Myrna watched him squirm in his seat, looking rather troubled. She had no idea what he meant by that. "A noble woman should stay loyal to the man she is betrothed to, not run off with his younger brother. From what I see here it is you, Myrna, who is truly at fault here," he judged her openly.

Myrna opened her mouth to defend herself but the noise in the throne room sharply rose and she could not be heard. The voices around her overlapped with at least fifty others. When Myrna scanned the rowdy crowd she noticed Sansa Stark had been standing within the crowd looking out of place. The girl stood silently, staring straight ahead with lifeless eyes. It were as if Sansa was trying too hard to avoid her. Was she angry with her? The Hound told Myrna that he gave Sansa a chance to leave, but refused the offer. If that was what was wrong then Myrna was not at fault, nor The Hound.

"I _took_ her from here! If anyone is to be punished, it's me!" The Hound defended her, his voice so loud it could be heard over all the other voices.

Joffrey's face began to blush an angry red. "You listen to me, dog! I give the commands here and I will punish anyone I wish!" he clamored, nearly about to raise off of his seat on the throne but he relaxed himself back into it when the room quieted down. "If you don't want the Beaumont girl executed, dog, then you know what you have to do," he said in a more calm tone.

The Hound's chin went down into his chest. He was deep in thought. _What does he have to do?_ Myrna wanted to ask but was too afraid to. It seemed everyone else knew what they were talking about. Myrna walked in too late to hear what was said when they first brought in The Hound. All eyes were on him now. They were waiting for his answer. It meant life or death for her, so she hoped for him to agree but at the same time she did not know what he was agreeing to and how bad it was. Knowing Joffrey, it should be awful. The mixed emotions inside her made her feel like she was being pulled in two different directions.

"Aye, I'll do it..." The Hound sighed hesitantly.

Myrna sighed as well. She would live, but for what? Now what will happen? When she heard some giggling she looked and saw ladies smirking at Sansa. The girl's pale face was flushed, but she kept a solemn expression on her face. Then Myrna noticed a small gesture. The Hound turned his face the other way for a second to give Sansa an apologetic stare. Myrna now had a grasp on what was going on here. It was not going to be awful for The Hound at all, but for herself.

"No..." Myrna choked out.

Joffrey stood up from the old, mean throne. The smile on his face was the salt in the wound. "Myrna Beaumont is still betrothed to Gregor Clegane and will leave for Clegane Hall with him after their wedding," he gave her one last dirty smirk before giving his attention to the other girl he loved to play with. "To ensure she remains loyal to one of the Lannister's most valued knights... Sansa Stark is now betrothed to Sandor Clegane! That will be all this morning," he announced, dismissing everyone from the throne room.


End file.
